All is how it should be

Quiet.
Alone.
Not wanting to share.
Paranoid, but not caring either.
Free of longing for another.
After 50 years, the thread has snapped.
37 has no allure any more.... just a distant memory of long ago.
So much has happened.
No way to share all this.
No one cares anyway, nor should they.
Me and my dog.
All is as it should be.