Flowers on Sunday For Now

Everything went from getting better to totally precarious in a 5 minute conversation with my roommate who told me I have 60 days to move out so her cousin can move in to my room and they can decide if they get along well enough to pool their money and buy a house together.  Because housing is so expensive where I live.  Because on their own, they can’t afford to buy the kind of place they want to live.

See how funny that is?  How their situation is so similar to mine?  How I also can’t afford the kind of place I would like to live in on my own?  I mean – I know exactly how that Feels.  That’s why I’ve lived here with someone I didn’t know so I could make it on my salary.  That’s why I spent the pandemic in one room and nowhere else, except to cook my meals.  Why my heart got broken in the same chair where I eat my meals, three feet away from where I had to sit to work – and where I lay down to sleep.

Gee, that really sucks.  Not to be able to afford to live where you want.  To have to make the best of something that isn’t exactly what you pictured for yourself.  I really, really get it.

Please don’t leave me any “It’s all for the best, it will all work out,” messages.  Because I don’t need any positivity right now.  I need to cry.  I need you to know how scared I am.  And I just need to start packing.

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