Odd

Normal, new, old, or interim,
has never been normal for me.
Squirrelly, standoffish, cold, or strange,
I’ve been called these and many more.
My normal has always
preferred being alone,
with company or no,
yet still alone.
I birthed three children
and married a man
just as abnormal as me,
living for days within
the same square footage
and barely exchanging a word.
Our normal is not lonely,
it is rarely physically alone,
but it is fed in a soul’s
solitary splendor,
touching base
and loving deeply,
yet still deeply, oddly,
abnormally alone.