I just want someone to make the decisions for me

Some days I am overwhelmed by the number of decisions it takes to run a household. I was well aware of this while partnered, don't get me wrong, and perhaps, dare I say it, the majority of day-to-day decisions were mine even then, but now there's no sounding board, no one to discuss things with, no one to surprise you by actually, say, cooking dinner without you having anything to do with it.

The other night after a particularly long day at work I came home to find a light on. My gorgeous daughter had dropped in late afternoon, it transpired, and turned the heater on and left the lights on. It was a welcome home. I cried a little, I'll admit, knowing someone had thought of me even though the house was empty.

Then the next night I ducked into my neighbour's house to retrieve a key I had left with her so she could feed the dog while I was away for a few days. Her house is always warm and full of love, we've watched each other's children grow up, it's like family. They had just finished dinner and she plated up a serve of lasagne for me to take home. It's been a long time since someone has cooked me dinner. As I sat at my kitchen bench I tasted love with every bite.

These two simple acts made my week. One where I had to deal with a faulty fire alarm going off in the middle of the night. One where I had to deal with car troubles. One where several little things, combined into one big thing.

I look at my to-do list, I keep two now. Easy things I can cross off with regularity, but another long-term one. If I don't write things down who is there to remind me that at some point I'll need to replace the pool cleaner, or attend to the exposed pipes in the watering system before the dog gets to them, or find someone to tell me that the cracks in the rendering of my 16-year-old home are normal and nothing to worry about.

Worries are easier shared and now they're all on my shoulders. And some days it weighs me down.

It was further exacerbated this week when I filled out yet another form that asked for my emergency contact. This simple question has stumped me for close to four years now. I have no family in Canberra. Is it something you can ask a dear friend to be? Now my daughter is 18, should she be? Should her father, who would be, if I'm honest, the one I would want to tell the kids their mother is dead in a ditch somewhere.

I've had several friends tell me they're happy to be my go-to person, and so that's the default at this stage. I know they'd do the right thing by me and the kids. I am alone but my community is large. I am reminded of that every day.

And on those days, I think of the things I like about living alone. That I can decide what's for dinner and if that's just a bowl of soup, no one is complaining. I can cook that dinner in my underwear if I choose too. I can decide when to do chores, or even choose not to do chores. If there's one thing that's slipped in the past four years it's my urgency to vacuum and dust.

I can decide what to watch on television, no one is belittling me for liking Married at First Sight, or Masterchef, I doubt I would ever have discovered Game of Thrones, or Dead to Me, or Divorce, or Orange is the New Black, or all the other great shows someone would have hated. I can make the decision about where to holiday, what to wear even, I've never worn so much black in my life. And I like it. I like all of it.