It was a bitter sweet feeling, when I woke up early on a Saturday morning in late November of last year. I knew this was to be my last time with roommates. I knew that I will be in a place where I could learn about myself, take my writing to a new level, and grow. Besides, I could be butt-naked and enjoy my girlfriend without the added pressure of other people to worry about.
Damn, this door represents so, so much.
Move-In Day – Uhaul stops, my friend and I get out, I look around and smile with excitement. I see an older gentleman of 50 or so, who, is watering his plants. He looks puzzled and confused, he doesn’t make much eye-contact, but is aware of my presence. I go up the stairs, I have this smile on my face, I go to greet him – and the fucker shafts me. He looks me dead in my face and proceeds to water his plants…
2 Days Later – Afterwork I’m eager to get back home. I was ready to shout to the world that I was living by myself. I get off the bus, I walk 4 minutes or so to my apartment, and instantly am greeted with more neighbors. Another older guy of 50 or much older said his name, where he lived, welcomed me to the apartment and neighborhood…mentioned something briefly about his partner. I saw other people from time to time during that first day. I didn’t think much about it…