All Alone Again

I'm at my friends' place right now. There are six people that live in this townhouse in Baltimore, and I generally spend almost all of my weekends here. Right now four of the housemates (a straight couple, my gay bestfriend, and former straight best guy friend) are here, and another girl from where some of us work is over, too.

They are downstairs causing a ruckus. I'm upstairs with the dog.

This has become the usual for me to expect when I'm here...which leads me to question why I still do it.

You see, this past year and a half has been difficult, to put it mildly. And in the midst of all of my plithe, I found refuge in this house. After a week of school which always, without fail, left me overworked and depressed, I could come here and, for a short while, forget about the misery. I was away from my messy roommates, away from all of the people who had let me down, away from the books and the papers and the things that reminded me of all that I lost.

It's ironic how the tables have now turned. It is now here, in a house where it's almost impossible to find a moment to yourself in any room, where I feel most alone. The people who have let me down are under the same roof.

The girl from work is the new me. She's replaced me in almost every single way that I mattered in this house. And for some reason, I keep hanging on, hoping that things will go back to normal. I suppose it's because I've already been forced to completely change my life around once this year. I'm really not ready to do it again. But, it looks like I may soon not have a choice...