Her.

My whole life, in every neighborhood I've ever lived in, there has always been a "crazy old lady" that only talks to some people sometimes and is often quite content to just be completely in her own company. 

She usually has a few cats or a wee dog. She fusses in the yard or sits on the step and watches the world go by. If she has a phone, you'll often hear it ringing until it just stops and you wonder if she has a hearing problem, but no, she really just doesn't care to chat right then.

She goes walking alone, often at odd hours. She carries mismatched bags of god only knows what, and she talks out loud to nothing at all.

I've always loved her, even from afar. Imagine my surprise (and no small amount of joy) when I woke up one day and fully realized that I basically am her, or at least I'm not far off from becoming her. 

I've been through everything to get here and I know I have a lot more to experience to fully get there but I understand her absolute need for solitude and quiet. I understand her leaving the typical world behind to set out and forge her very own, just a little softer and a bit off to the side.

I love her. I can't wait to fully be her.