I live alone. Would I like someone else living here? Well, yeah. But it's not like I can't breathe unless there's someone watching TV with me. I read the posts here and they are ungodly depressing. Yeah, it's lonely at times, yet I don't feel a crushing need to drag anyone off the street to cure it. My mom was always throwing my dad out of the house. Of course, after he passed away, he became Saint Dad. The point I'm trying to make is that we can find ourselves in difficult situations, but we don't have to wallow in self pity over it. We have options, even the ones we can't see right now. Living alone is not a living hell.