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Jul 25, 2013 / 11 notes

Moving Pt. 2

Last night I went on a final prospective apartment visit (which was fine but I’m still going with WH) and then afterward I went to the grocery store to buy my favorite iced tea and I’m not sure what happened but I somehow managed to drop the tea in the middle of the store and a piece of the plastic lid broke off. Nothing spilled or exploded but everyone was looking at me and everyone had to get in their two cents about the damn thing and I didn’t know whether to start crying or yelling at everyone or maybe a combination of both but what I actually wound up doing was just quietly putting the tea back and leaving with nothing.

Maybe it’s stupid to say but yesterday was the dawning of the realization that I’ll never be able to live like I used to. And by that, I’m referring to living with people who know who I am and what I’m like and have known me for some time and get me. No strangers. Just friends. All of my friends are getting married or have been married for some time now. A few days ago I spoke with one of my best girlfriends from college who just got engaged. She invited me to her wedding next year and I felt so happy for her because I know she’ll be a beautiful bride and she’ll rock it at married life but also sad at the same time for reasons I’m not even totally sure of.

It’s almost like a maturity thing, y’know? Most of my inner circle is the same age as me - mid 20’s - and in a few months I’m going to be on the warmer to 30 side of the twentysomething spectrum experience. I’ll (most likely) be single on that side too. I feel like society wants to tie in maturing and growing up with marriage and having children far too often. Like if you reach a certain age, then you should have been married at that point. SUPPOSEDLY you should have had a steady long-term relationship with someone by then. But conversely we look at people who had children when they are still quite young and see them as being irresponsible. Or couples who get married at a young age as not knowing what they really want and being foolish in love.

Several years ago, I found out that my mother was actually my dad’s second wife. He had been married before to another woman and the marriage ended quickly, no kids included. This surprised me when I found it out but I guess the reason why he married her was the most surprising if not depressing aspect of the whole thing - my dad was lonely. He told me never to marry a person if you feel that way and that always stuck with me. I’ve always been really good at being my own best friend and taking what people refer to as loneliness and just making it my own quiet times to enjoy. It’s not something that everyone can easily do though. Takes years of practice and yeah, sometimes you do feel like questioning everything around you when people start to pair off. A little like being in grade school and having to make a presentation and having your last name be so close to the end of the alphabet that you worry if there will be time to get to you and if anyone is still sticking around to hear what you have to say. Sometimes the teacher switches it up a little bit and has letters Z-A go instead. But it’s not all that often. I have a lifetime of experience in that department. And I like to think that the right person will still be in that room and listening.

Sometimes I am resentful that for xyz years to come I’m going to be bouncing from place to place constantly. Room to room, apartment to apartment, house to house. Living out of a suitcase lyfe. Keep your bags packed timez. Avoiding purchases that are too heavy to carry on the go like living room furniture and mirrors and artwork. A lot of other people will be settled in, settled down, and having something still and concrete to hold onto. I’m resentful of the bounce factor but it also makes me nervous thinking about attempting to embody a still life. But I do want some portions of it. Mostly I want the holidays bit - being able to come home and eat my almond crescent cookies and watch Love Actually and have a cute dress on and ugh, maybe crying a little because that movie is too much with the Alan Rickman/Emma Thompson storyline. This year I have to go travel during the holidays. Like, must get out of the house because I don’t want to get invited to crash the owner’s Christmas party in the next room. Too much awkward for everyone. I’ve done the whole “go to people’s places during holidays” thing before and it always ends the same way: I go shopping and get confused when the family doesn’t expect me to come out of my room modeling the outfit I bought, they all think there’s something wrong with me when I nap for three hours post-turkey at Thanksgiving.

It’s funny because no matter whether you settle down or not, you always crave the vicarious life. We’re all doing a pretty damn good job at making our lives look incredible these days. Surface smooth and filtered just right. But it’s what underneath the surface that never gets discussed and that’s a shame because that’s the good stuff right there. The good and the bad and the real all mashed up into one.