Warning: It’s ‘use the blog as an emotional outlet’ time! Sentimental stuff and a fair amount of whining ahead.
It’s the beginning of August and I still have three long, hot weeks before the blessed oasis of classes and financial aid refunds. This summer has been equal parts horror and heaven, which is why I’ve all but disappeared on this blog. Near the end of May, I made my way to Minnesota to be with Andreas and, as per usual whenever we’re together, bad shit started happening immediately. My apartment complex wanted us to go to hearings over “damage to property”–putting off a fumigation process for way too long due to lack of time and too many academic responsibilities. My apartment was robbed. Thankfully my roommates and I weren’t there and we’re broke-ass college students who don’t own nice stuff (and anything nice that we do own came with us during the summer). I ran out of money and food. Luckily I have an extremely loving, supportive partner to struggle with and an amazing safety net of friends who refuse to let me starve or be homeless.
Hit the jump to read more about my doozy of a summer….
I had to get rid of my cat Pumpkin this summer. This is still a fresh wound. I got him when he was three weeks old and he was my best friend for six years. But things just got too complicated. I can barely feed and take care of myself, let alone make sure my cat is healthy and cared for. It was the best decision for everyone. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell. The day he went to his new home, Andreas and I sat on the bed and cried for an hour or more. Thinking about it makes me want to cry even now. I miss my cat. It hurts to think that he has a new owner, that he’s not my cat anymore. I wish things were different.
I’ve been trying to deal with rent and apartment problems, trying to figure out which roommates are staying and which are leaving and my apartment is just in complete disarray. It’s like a black hole of stress, anxiety and depression. It doesn’t feel like my home and I can’t find the motivation to clean when I’m by myself. All the furniture I brought when I first moved is destroyed and gone and everything is just a mess. I get depressed being there by myself: there’s no internet, little food, and is inconveniently far from most places (as in, not really walking distance).
And to make all of this worse, like some rotten cherry on a shit sundae, Wednesday morning, after 70 days of being together, Andreas had to get on a bus back to Minnesota. After over two months of being together, sleeping together, co-habitating, supporting and loving each other and being within arm’s reach of each other–something that we are so fucking deprived of–it’s over. And I don’t know when we’ll be together again. A big part of the reason I’ve been able to survive this summer mentally and emotionally is because Andreas was there with me, going through the same shit, telling me that it’d be okay, we’d make it, we’d figure something out. And we did. But now they’re gone and it’s so hard to deal with. Neither of us have internet access right now so communication is limited. I miss them and would give anything for them to be back here with me. I will never be in another long-distance relationship; the heartache is too much. Every few months we have to go through this and it never gets any easier.
See, even though tons of bad shit happened this summer, it’s still managed to be one of the best summers ever because we were together. Whenever things got really bad we knew we could just lean on each other. Just watch movies and relax. Or play cards. Or just lay in the dark and talk for hours about everything. Or just hold each other in silence. We’re still here for each other emotionally it’s just so much harder with so much distance.
So, I’m alone with no goose, no internet, no movies (they accidentally took my DVD case with him), limited access to a very small library, little food, about $16 in the bank. But like I said before, I have a great group of friends. They feed me and take care of me when I’m sad. One of my close friends is going to help me clean and organize the entire apartment, find free furniture and make the place actually look and feel like someone lives there. I can’t wait to have guests over again without feeling ashamed of how shitty the place looks. I’m getting a new roommate who I’m good friends with; we click on a seriously deep level and I feel like living with her is going to be amazing. I’m looking forward to the school year: I love my classes, I have a life-saving financial aid refund coming and I got work-study. I get to work in a library again after four years (in a cute turn of events, Andreas and I will now similar jobs). I watched a lot of good movies. I wrote some cool things this summer that I’m seriously proud of: a script of mine is going to be a comic in Womanthology and I’m going to be published in Paracinema for the first time. I’m starting to feel more creative and since I have tons of free time on my hands, hopefully I won’t waste all of it by playing video games all day. I feel hopeful.
Basically, even though things feel dismal at times, I know that it could be way, way worse. Writing all this shit out helps me get out all my sadness and frustration while simultaneously making me think about the way things are good. I’m poor but surviving. I’m in school, have access to technology and am able to find working internet if I try hard enough (all of which are privileges that a huge majority of people do not have). I’m able to communicate with the people I love even when they’re far away. I’m able to survive on very, very little thanks to the skills my mom taught me when we struggled. I’ve never been abused or molested or seriously physically hurt. I’m young and creative and determined. I love and am loved by many people. I’m lucky in a lot of ways. And I don’t want to take any of that for granted, even when I feel like shit is at its worst.
I hope everyone out there in the blogsphere has been doing well. I look forward to finally actually posting shit on this blog again.