As I closed the door, I could feel the flutter in my stomach. The timer has started. I am alone. With my cat and my dog, I guess I’m not entirely alone, but it’s not the same as having a person with me. There’s frustration – though this month will find me alone more often than not, it’s just a few days at a time. I’ve lived alone for as much as two years at a time. Yet, despite my frustration and against reason, there is a part of me that is afraid. It’s not a fear of others, but rather, a fear of myself. Being alone is one thing,…