I remember one the biggest things I was worried about in my senior year of high school was the fact that in college I would be moving into an empty apartment. I remember writing a post about how I hated my 18th birthday because of it. Now here I am. In an empty apartment. My first year of college I had to stay in the dorm and I had to get one with a roommate. I wasn’t super fond of the guy, but I didn’t hate him either. It was just a pain when he snored and when I wanted some “alone” time. Then in my second year I got my wish, an apartment to myself. I was optimistic when getting an apartment and wasn’t think about the loneliness. Overall I wasn’t too bummed out. I think it was because I had a job and I spent a lot of time working and had friends at that job. However, there were times where I would just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. But I was still a bit sane. Last year, I moved to an awful apartment. It was left in shit condition and was overall disgusting. The shower wasn’t slanted to let the water drain all the way, so dirt would just pool at the bottom of the tub. The kitchen was left in abysmal state for another reason I will get into. And the sliding door window had grime all over it. I hated it. And then there was the fact that I had a room mate. We had separate rooms, so it wasn’t that bad. The thing is, he was a very odd guy. He wasn’t a student, at least currently, so he would travel all over the state looking for work. He worked for like an oil field for a couple of months and stayed there, but for some reason he still had an apartment in town. So I would rarely see him, so I didn’t mind. However, he still left all his shit in the apartment. The fridge was filled with old food that I refused to clean out, so I never cooked. I wasn’t working then, so the loneliness really set in. Weekends would just be sleeping because I was too depressed to do anything else. This year I moved to a much better apartment. Still cheap, but a one bed room apartment. It was actually cleaned before I moved in, so that was great. I cook regularly now, but that’s probably because of quarantine. I would probably eat more on campus. I’m shit at maintaining it, so now things are a mess, but at least it’s my mess, which I could put up with. It has no furniture, so I sleep on an air mattress. Again, I don’t have a job, so weekends are bitter and lonely. The walls are thin and my neighbors are a couple, so sometimes I hear them have sex through the walls. I tend to put on headphones when this happens, but it kind of sucks when I’m woken to moaning. I mean good for them and all, but it only really heightens my loneliness. I guess this is why I decided to write this post. I often dream about opening my door and I’m greeted by someone who is happy to see me. I wonder what it would be like to lie in a bed with someone close and hold them. I want to sit at a table and eat with someone I care about. I don’t know. I’m a bit tired write now.
2 comments
You’re understandably bitter. Your flat echoes. At one point, another one was so disgusting, you were ashamed of thriving in it. More than anything, you want to take care of someone and feel supported by another.
You know what I like about it? You can say you’ve been there and you know what it’s like.
You aren’t an old man that’s bitter about opportunities that are no longer possible… Like dating, or college, or knowing if you found the right purpose, even looked for it.
You’re living your truth and it’s a modest one that will teach you a lot tomorrow. I think this will make you humble about appreciating what you win later on.
Atleast you have your own place