Wednesday, May 14, 2014

four walls and adobe slats.

I moved into my apartment at the end on January 31st of this year. 

This apartment has been a fucking disaster from the first day. The building was in an awful state compared to when I went to look at it. My A/C and heater didn't work, I didn't have any gas, therefore no hot water, and my landlord and maintenance man were almost useless. I couldn't live in my apartment until the end of February. Once I moved in, the other problems became apparent. The apartment hadn't been cleaned and the previous tenants were filthy. Lights were broken, windows didn't have screens, I can hear EVERYTHING from my neighbors below, the back stairs are unsafe, etc etc. My A/C wasn't even fixed until it started getting hotter back in March. Now, I hear mice in the walls, or something, and I've talked to my landlord and I'm moving out, after four months. I'll be leaving in July, I'd be leaving regardless, but an opportunity to live with my dear, dear friend, Shella has come up, and it couldn't be more perfect.

Despite all of these problems and this fucking death house apartment, there is something about this place that I will always hold so close to me. I want to spend my last months documenting myself in this place. Before I moved into this apartment, I was in an awful state, within myself. So the shitty place actually allowed me to get in a better place mentally and emotionally. The best place. And, I have this shithole to thank for it. Granted, this apartment has some charming qualities, once you look past all of the dirt and cracks and smells and sounds.

I was in an unhealthy relationship for 3 years. 3 years that peaked when we met and gradually went downhill until we were both at rock bottom, me more so than her. There were ups and downs, but the ups were downs, and there were never really ups anyway. It's so strange, the situations you put yourself into, making things your "reality", so much so that it seems like there can be nothing else when everything is always right there at your fingertips, you just have to make that small move, and then everything comes crashing in waves, and nothing is the same at all, everything, every single thing is different, but this core of you, this core of you that is always there even when absolutely nothing is the same.

I forgot about the core of me. I forgot about me in general. And it showed. Getting out of that relationship, moving into this fucking place, living on my own, just me and my dog, surrounded by my own things, being alone, I will always love this fucking apartment. I will always love it. I will always remember it.

I haven't felt this good since the summer of 2007, the summer when all felt right, when I felt fucking right, when I had this family of friends and genuine happiness.

Getting into my new place, within, allowed me to open back up all these friendship I pushed away because of my last relationship. Everything that I pushed away, I even pushed myself away. I got it all back, plus, in this apartment. Getting into a healthy state, a happy state, also allowed me to meet Katheryn, and I will forever be eternally grateful for that. She has changed my life, my mindset, my view on the world in more ways that I have ever imagined anyone doing so.

This apartment birthed our relationship, the first time we slept in the same bed, the first time we made love, where she asked me to be hers. This apartment is sacred, and I will always love this piece of shit.

Here's to even more changes, constant beginnings.

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