I opened the door to my apartment and inside is dark. I closed the door, turned on the light, and put my keys on the counter. I live alone and, sometimes, I can't bring myself to put the key in the lock. Entering the apartment just makes me realize I have no one.
The clock on the wall reads eleven-thirty. I should call my mother before she calls me. I'm not up to talking to her but she excepts me to call every Saturday. She made me promise her before I left. My mother never forgets. I get myself settled on the couch and dial her number. She answered the phone cheerfully.
"Hello?" She asked.
"Hello, Mum. It's Mahesh." I said. She doesn't know my nickname.
"Oh, Mahesh. I was worried you weren't going to call. How are you?" She asked. I sighed. "Mahesh, that doesn't sound good."
"No, Mum, I'm fine. Everything's fine." I assured her.
"Are you seeing anyone?" She asked. I hate it when she asks that. She asks every time I talk to her.
"No, I'm not seeing anyone."
"You have to meet someone. We're not getting any younger and we would like some grandchildren before we pass on." She whined.
"I understand that, Mum. It's been good talking to you but I have to go." I said. I can only talk to her for so long.
"Okay, Mahesh. Call me again. Bye." She said then hung up. I put the phone on the table.
I went into the kitchen and started to fix myself something to eat. I eat alone every night and every morning. I go to sleep by myself, go to work alone, and come home to an empty apartment. I know I'm alone. I except the fact I may never meet anyone but why does my mother have to rub it in my face? I know they want grandkids and a daughter-in-law. I want a family but I can't change the fact that I'm not the marrying type. I put everything away and looked at the clock. It was near twelve-thirty. I put my jacket back on, grabbed my keys, then left. Hopefully everyone will still be at the bar.