It’s been about a month since I moved into this apartment with my new roommate. I believe my roommate was really nervous at first, but she seems to be transitioning well.
I have told the truth about myself, but I have not openly shared everything. Allow me to reintroduce myself.
Monday nights became a time for gathering friends together with bottles of wine. The Bachelor franchise became a rallying force for friendship. For years, dinner was made and shared, friends laughed, and we all bonded over the drama that unfolded on the screen.
There were bloody paw prints on the cold tiled floor of the emergency pet hospital. I stared at them with my heart beating for the animal who was being treated behind closed doors.
There’s a feeling you get when you are home alone in the middle of the night. A dash of panic and you try your best to remind yourself to breathe.
I looked around at the town that had evolved and changed, I realized that the mild feeling of loss wasn’t about the last time I would be in town at all. It was the anticipation of missing my best friend.
Every last leaf on the branches of trees in the late stages of autumn falls differently. Without the death of these leaves, there would be no transition from summer to winter.
On Mother’s Day I would travel to Bakersfield to visit my mom and grandma, and I would always receive something from my stalker.
I’ve always said that nature is my church. I go there to reset, reconnect, and to reflect on everything. However, I never had the chance to do that by myself until that hike alone in Monrovia Canyon.
Many of my friends right now are also moving and changing jobs. There’s something in the air and everyone’s ready to move forward and make things happen.