Coming late to this but loved it and thought two things.

Like you I loved the zen of my space when I lived alone, the idea that when I returned everything would be the same and in the place I left it. Sometimes I'd get asked, 'don't you want more stuff?' but I loved the big blank spaces in my apartment and the feeling of being unencumbered by all the bits and pieces of someone else's life. I found those lonely spaces extremely relaxing.

But I do remember thinking one weekend, this is precarious actually. I must have eaten something disagreeable on the Thursday night and couldn't get out of bed until Sunday, sleeping on and off for almost three days. Once I finally mustered the energy to go to the shop and countenance the idea of eating something again, I thought how unsafe you are alone actually, how dangerous life can be without someone else in it, even for the relatively young and healthy with friends living nearby. It was strange, to have to be ill to recognise how daring it is to live alone.

Thanks for your piece.