Sunday, November 12

day 10934: why?

Tell me again, why. Why did I give up a life I loved? Why did I give up living in a place I loved? For what did I give up myself, my soul, my own sense of being?

Sure, I was still lost most of the time; bumbling around a life I was unsure of and not quite so happy with. But at least I had a choice, and at least I felt like I was free. At least I was happy with where I was living.

And now, almost thirty, back living at home with “mom” after being on my own for almost eleven years, laughing at myself with the others that tease me, but crying myself to sleep at night. It’s been almost two months and, no, I’m still not used to it. It is killing me, slowly, everyday that I am here.

I’ve tried to be positive. I’ve tried to embrace the whole new lifestyle load of crap. I’ve tried taking the subway, and commuting with hundreds of other faceless, emotionless clones who run because they want to catch the freaking train. I’m not like that. I’m not one of them.

The party line is that I’m trying to save up money to buy my own place. Bullshit.

I’m here because her tenant moved out, and she made a fuss about selling the house because she’d be living here alone. Yes, I gave in to the guilt. I am asian, afterall. I was born with guilt. There is a timeline of a year, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Another two months at most. It’s already a day to day struggle.

Fuck anyone who tells me to suck it up and just do it because I’m “saving money.” I’m not saving any money by living here. After rent and incidentals, I’m saving $60 a month. That’s all. Sixty fucking dollars that I have to spend taking a cab home on a Saturday night because I no longer live 15 minutes away from anywhere I want to be.

Fuck anyone who tells me to grow up, suck it up and just tough it out for the year. You have no idea what it's like, and you have no idea what I've given up. Because, fuck you, you're not here.

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