Where Have You Been?

"Where have you been?"

The voice of my friend lingers in the air as I listen in on my cell phone.

The question hangs on my brain for a moment, as I flash back to when I was a kid in high school, arriving home late and facing a cross look from my mother, awake and tired with her arms folded. She would be the one to have uttered the same words, verbatim. I'd imagine the words have escaped the mouths of all parents with teenagers. I recall having a sense of dread while coming home and facing an angry mother and father.

I live, gloriously, alone. I am enjoying this time of independence and singlehood while I can. I have no roommates, no one else to clean up after except for myself. I do fancy the idea of getting a dog - although not ready for that kind of responsibility - I have an affinity for the concept.

The aforementioned question speaks volumes - I immediately imagine the tone of the voice uttering the words, the irritation, etc. But - also it indicates that there is someone waiting up for me at home, someone who demands to know my whereabouts at returning home at such an ungodly hour. Someone who cares about where you were and what you were doing, who you were with. It's ridiculous, I realize; but I kind of miss that.

Who waits up for you?