Yesterday I went to my neighbor’s apartment to borrow a drill.
Miguel opened the door wearing lounge pants and a simple T-shirt.
— Come in — he said. — I just finished dinner.
I stepped inside. The apartment was neat and orderly, and the aroma of fried chicken with chili and spices drifted from the kitchen. A laptop sat on the table, and beside it was a glass of red wine.
Miguel is fifty-one years old.
He got divorced twelve years ago. Since then, he has lived alone.
He works as an engineer and earns around 80,000 Mexican pesos a month.
We’ve known each other for about five years, ever since I moved into this building in Mexico City. And during all that time, I’ve never seen another woman at his place. No steady partner, not even casual visitors.
He handed me the drill and then brought out a bottle of tequila.
— Since you’re here, sit down. It’s been a while since we’ve had a relaxed conversation.
We sat in the kitchen and poured ourselves a glass.
After a while I asked him:
— Miguel, why do you live alone? Don’t you want to find someone?
He smiled faintly.
— I’m not searching for anyone in particular. You know, Luis, during these twelve years of living alone I’ve learned many things. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I live more peacefully this way.
— Why?
He poured a little more tequila and leaned back in his chair.
— I can give you six reasons. They’re not theories — they’re things I’ve experienced myself.
First reason — the financial risks of divorce
Miguel started counting on his fingers.
— I got divorced twelve years ago. I had been married to my ex-wife, Patricia, for eighteen years. We have a daughter; she’s twenty-eight now and lives on her own.
He took a sip.
— We separated because she was unfaithful to me. I discovered she was having an affair with a coworker. After that, I filed for divorce.
— And what happened next?
— The judge ruled that the assets had to be divided equally. We had to sell the apartment and split the money. Even though I had paid most of the mortgage.
He looked at me.
— In practice, I lost half of everything I had built over the years. Even though the reason for the divorce was her infidelity. Legally, everything was perfectly normal.
He paused.
— Imagine this: you work, you pay the mortgage, you build a home. One day you discover your wife is cheating on you. You divorce… and she walks away with half of everything.
— That’s how the law works…
— Exactly. So I ask myself: why would I take that risk again?
He continued:
— Let’s say I meet someone. We start living together, then get married. We buy a car, furniture, maybe even another house. And after a few years she decides to leave.
And once again, everything gets divided.
He shrugged.
— I’ve already gone through that once. I don’t need to go through it again.
Second reason — men’s dreams are rarely supported
Miguel poured himself some water.
— Right now I have a small dream. I want to buy a vintage motorcycle. A BMW from the seventies. Restore it myself.
— That sounds amazing.
— Yes. I’ve been saving for about a year. I think I’ll be able to buy it in six months.
He drank some water.
— When I was married, I also had dreams.
He smiled with a hint of irony.
— Once I wanted to learn how to play the guitar. I bought one and signed up for afternoon lessons. Patricia told me:
“Why do you need that? You’re forty years old. Are you planning to become a rock star?”
In the end, I quit.
— Another time I wanted to go kayaking in Baja California with some friends for a week. She said:
“We have a mortgage and you want to play adventurer.”
So I gave that up too.
He looked out the window.
— Over time you realize something: many women see men’s dreams as nonsense.
He smiled slightly.
— Now I live alone. If I want to buy an old motorcycle and spend my weekends in the garage restoring it, I just do it. Nobody tells me it’s a waste of time.
Third reason — unrealistic expectations on dating apps
Miguel continued:
— A few years ago I tried dating apps. Just out of curiosity.
— And how did it go?
He smiled ironically.
— I talked with several women. One of them, Alejandra, was forty-six and worked as a receptionist in a beauty salon.
He paused.
— She wrote to me:
“You seem like an interesting man, but I’m looking for someone who earns at least 120 or 140 thousand pesos a month.”
So I asked her:
“And how much do you earn?”
She replied:
“About 40,000.”
And that was the end of the conversation.
Miguel laughed.
— Luis, I’ve noticed something curious. Many women today consider themselves an extraordinary prize.
He continued:
— They might live in a rented apartment and have an average salary. But they’re searching for a man with a high income, his own home, a nice car, and complete financial stability.
— And what do they offer?
He smiled.
— Usually things like “femininity”, “inspiration”, or “feminine energy”.
He looked at me.
— I earn about 80,000 pesos a month. I have my own apartment and a car.
But for some women, that still isn’t enough.
He shrugged.
— If someone looks down on you from the beginning, why waste your time?
Fourth reason — independence in everyday life
I asked him:
— But don’t you miss the feeling of home? Eating dinner together, taking care of each other, living as a couple?
Miguel smiled.
— And who says a single man can’t have a comfortable home?
He pointed toward the kitchen.
— I cook for myself. I clean for myself. The washing machine, the dishwasher, and the robot vacuum handle half the work.
He continued:
— When I was married, we argued constantly about small things. Who should take out the trash. Who should cook. Why something wasn’t put back in its place.
He shrugged.
— Now my home stays in order. Because everything depends on me.
Yesterday I went to my neighbor’s apartment to borrow a drill.
Miguel opened the door wearing lounge pants and a plain T-shirt.
— Come in — she said. — I just finished dinner.
I stepped inside. The apartment was neat and orderly, and the aroma of fried chicken with chili and spices drifted from the kitchen. A laptop rested on the table, and beside it stood a glass of red wine.
Miguel is fifty-one years old.
He divorced twelve years ago. Since then, he has lived alone.
He works as an engineer and earns around 80,000 Mexican pesos a month.
We’ve known each other for about five years, ever since I moved into this building in Mexico City. During all that time, I have never seen another woman at his place. No steady partner, not even occasional visitors.
He handed me the drill and then took out a bottle of tequila.
— Since you’re here, sit down. It’s been a while since we had a calm conversation.
We sat at the kitchen table and poured ourselves a drink.
After a while I asked him:
— Miguel, why do you live alone? Don’t you want to find someone?
He smiled faintly.
— I’m not looking for anyone in particular. You know, Luis, during these twelve years of living alone I’ve understood many things. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I live more peacefully this way.
— Because?
He poured a little more tequila and leaned back in his chair.
— I can give you six reasons. They’re not theories, they’re things I’ve experienced firsthand.
First reason — the economic risks of divorce
Miguel started counting.
— I got divorced twelve years ago. I had been married to my ex-wife, Patricia, for eighteen years. We have a daughter; she’s twenty-eight now and lives independently.
He took a sip.
— We separated because he was unfaithful to me. I discovered he was having an affair with a coworker. After that, I filed for divorce.
— And what happened next?
— The judge decided to divide the assets equally. We had to sell the apartment and split the money. Although I had paid most of the mortgage.
He looked at me.
— In practice, I lost half of what I had built over the years. Even though the reason for the divorce was his infidelity. Legally, everything was completely normal.
He paused.
— Imagine: you work, you pay the mortgage, you build a home. And one day you discover your wife is cheating on you. You get divorced… and she keeps half of everything.
— That’s how the law works…
— Exactly. And then I ask myself: why take that risk again?
He continued:
— Let’s say I meet a woman. We start living together, then we get married. We buy a car, furniture, maybe another house. And after a few years she decides to leave.
And once again, everything has to be divided.
He shrugged.
— I’ve been through that once. I don’t need to repeat it.
Second reason — men’s dreams are rarely supported
Miguel poured himself some water.
— Now I have a small dream. I want to buy a vintage motorcycle. A BMW from the seventies. Restore it myself.
— That sounds great.
— Yes. I’ve been saving for a year. I think I’ll be able to afford it in about six months.
He drank some water.
— When I was married I also had dreams.
He smiled with a hint of irony.
— I once wanted to learn to play the guitar. I bought a guitar and signed up for afternoon lessons. Patricia told me then:
“Why do you need that? You’re forty years old. Are you going to become a rock star?”
In the end I quit.
— I wanted to go kayaking in Baja California with some friends for a week again. She said:
“We have a mortgage and you want to play at adventures.”
So I resigned too.
He looked out the window.
— Over time you understand something: many women see men’s dreams as nonsense.
She smiled.
— I live alone now. If I want to buy an old motorcycle and spend weekends in the garage, I just do it. Nobody tells me it’s a waste of time.
Third reason — expectations that are too high on dating apps
Miguel went on:
— I tried dating apps a few years ago. Just out of curiosity.
— And how was it?
He smiled ironically.
— I spoke with several women. One of them, Alejandra, was forty-six years old and worked as a receptionist in a beauty salon.
He paused.
— He wrote to me:
“You seem like an interesting man, but I’m looking for someone who earns at least 120 or 140 thousand pesos a month.”
I asked him:
“And how much do you earn?”
He replied:
“About 40,000.”
And that’s where the conversation ended.
Miguel laughed.
— Luis, I’ve noticed something curious. Many women today consider themselves an extraordinary prize.
He continued:
— They can live off rent and have a normal salary. But they’re looking for a man with a high income, his own home, a nice car, and complete financial stability.
— And what do they offer?
She smiled.
— They usually say things like “femininity”, “inspiration” or “feminine energy”.
He looked at me.
— I earn about 80,000 pesos a month. I have my own apartment and a car.
But for some women, that’s still not enough.
He shrugged.
— If someone looks down on you from the start, why waste your time?
Fourth reason — independence in everyday life
I asked him:
— But don’t you miss the home atmosphere? Dinners together, caring for each other, life as a couple?
Miguel smiled.
— And who said a single man can’t have his own comfortable home?
He pointed toward the kitchen.
— I cook myself. I clean myself. The washing machine, the dishwasher, and the robot vacuum do half the work.
He continued:
— When I was married, we argued constantly about little things. Who takes out the trash. Who cooks. Why things are out of place.
He shrugged.
— Now my house is in order. Because everything depends on me.
Fifth reason — the value of personal space
Miguel poured himself some more tequila.
— There is something else: personal freedom.
He said calmly:
— If I want, I can work late. I can go away for a weekend to the mountains. Or spend the whole day reading or watching movies.
She smiled.
— And I don’t have to give explanations to anyone.
He added:
— When you’ve been living alone for a long time, you really start to appreciate peace and quiet and your own space.
Sixth reason — tranquility is worth more than illusions
Miguel finished his tequila.
— The most important thing I’ve understood in these years is this: relationships don’t always make life better.
He said calmly:
— Sometimes they just complicate things.
He looked at me.
— If I ever meet a woman with whom everything is easy, calm, and interesting, I’m not against a relationship.
We sat there in silence for a while longer. The only sounds in the kitchen were the ticking of the wall clock and, occasionally, the distant sound of a car passing by on a street in Mexico City. Miguel slowly swirled his glass in his hand, and I thought about everything he had said.
He didn’t seem like a bitter or disillusioned man. On the contrary, he spoke calmly, without resentment. More like someone who had simply drawn his own conclusions.
After a few minutes I asked him:
— And you never feel lonely?
Miguel smiled slightly.
— Luis, people often confuse two different things: loneliness and tranquility.
He took a small sip of tequila.
— Loneliness is when you feel you have no one. Tranquility is when you are at peace with yourself.
He turned the glass slowly.
— I’m not alone. I have friends, coworkers. I have my daughter. We talk on the phone often, sometimes she comes to visit me. At Christmas or on Independence Day we always try to spend time together.
He looked out the window.
— But when I get home… I like it to be quiet.
I nodded. In a way, I understood what he meant.
— What if one day you meet a woman who thinks like you?
Miguel shrugged.
— Then it would be different. I’m not against relationships. The problem arises when people enter into a relationship simply because they believe it’s the right thing to do.
He smiled slightly.
— There’s a lot of social pressure these days. If you’re over forty and not married, the questions start immediately:
“Why are you alone?”
“Don’t you want to start a family?”
“Aren’t you afraid of growing old alone?”
He raised his eyebrows.
— But almost no one asks something more important: “Are you happy?”
We remained silent for a few seconds.
— So, for you, happiness is freedom — I said.
Miguel shook his head slowly.
— Not just freedom. Rather, balance.
He placed the glass on the table.
— For example, a typical day for me is quite simple. I get up, make coffee. Sometimes I go for a run in the park. Then I go to work or I work from home.
She smiled.
— In the afternoon I cook something simple. Sometimes a friend comes over, we sit and talk and have a glass of wine or a shot of tequila. Other times I read a book or watch a movie.
He looked at me.
— Doesn’t sound like a bad life, does it?
— No, the truth is no.
Miguel let out a quiet laugh.
— Exactly. Many people think that if someone lives alone, then they are necessarily unhappy.
He paused.
— But sometimes the exact opposite happens.
We finished the tequila and I stood up from the table.
— Thanks for the conversation… and for the drill — I said.
Miguel nodded.
— Whenever you want. You know where I live. If you ever want to come by for a chat or a drink, I’m here.
We shook hands and I stepped out into the hallway.
As I slowly went down the building’s stairs, I kept thinking about what I had just heard. Not because I completely agreed with everything he said. Everyone follows their own path.
But one thing was clear.
Miguel didn’t seem like a man who had lost something in life.
Instead, he seemed like someone who had deliberately chosen the way he wanted to live.
And perhaps that was the most important idea.
Not that relationships are bad.
But that they should come from a sincere desire to be with someone, not from a fear of being alone.
When I reached the door of my apartment, I paused for a few seconds.
Because for the first time I thought about something very simple.
Sometimes people are not alone because they haven’t found anyone.
Sometimes they are alone because, at last, they have found peace.
