Bank account, name on lease, car payment, utility bills. I have held a job for over five years, which pays enough for me to live on my own.
At least, it did until now. Now that rents are increasing 25% or more all over the place.
Last year, I visited Colorado, and saw a friend I met at work in 2007. A few months later, another friend from that same job came to stay with me for a week.
I worked at that job for nine months.
Several months ago, I received my five-year bonus, and realized in this time I have not made friends a closely as I did in such a shorter time.
I have not let myself get close to anyone in a long, long time.
Then came the rent increase. I suppose technically I could afford it, but it got me thinking, how much is this life worth?
This life of living to pay rent, this life of making arm-length friends.
So lucky am i, to have found this life as we entered a pandemic. Stability has never felt so precious! But how long can I stand it? To be less than I am?
What does it mean, to think I am bigger than this life?
So. Here I am, freshly once-again homeless. So close to falling in love. Still employed, still the caretaker of my ex-step-dad; still anchored. But less so, and almost ready to let go of the last tethers.
Will I?
Can I?
