on where I am now

So in less than four days, everything inside this house will be gone. Everything, except me. Aaron decided to pull his furniture out more than a month away before our lease ends. It's not the nicest thing, but hey, most of the stuff here anyway are his, so yes, fair enough. 

He called me while I was doing my groceries this morning.

Hey, just wanted to let you know that I'm picking up my furniture this Tuesday. Do you know what you're going to do yet?

I didn't say anything back. It was a shock, I was expecting things to be the way they were, then boom! "Hy, I'm moving all my stuff out so you'll be left here with nothing but your chopping board, you laptop, and your stupid fucking lamp. Byeee!"

And that was the reality of it. I owned nothing, my bare existence is the only thing that's concrete around here. Oh! and thirty-seven books, which I could probably turn into a make-shift bed.

It's my mum's birthday this coming tuesday too, and in the next four days, I have to come up with a bar fridge, an aero bed, and a plate or two just so I'd have something to use while I still live here for the next month. 

Mum offered me to live at her place while I'm sorting my shit out, I said no. As easy as it may sound, I wouldn't wanna give up what I worked hard on, this. 

this apparent independence

In less than a month I have to come up with at least enough bond to put down on a future home, apartment, share house. In less than a month, I have to sort my shit out.

Why flood myself with so many things to juggle with you might ask? I don't know. Maybe the more I have on my desk, the lesser time I'd have to think about other things, depression is one thing that I wouldn't let creep in at me again. I can still remember that dark place that I've been in two years ago. It was scary, it was the only time in my life where I couldn't feel hope, that waking up the next day was worth it, that getting off bed would lead me to something like this.

I guess that's why I don't want to move back with my mum again. It all started there, and coming back there again would only remind me of the pain that i had to go through living with them. They didn't know that I was going through counselling everyday the last three months of high school, but they know I wasn't happy.

Mum gave me the talk a month before I finished high-school, saying, "I know you're not happy here, so as soon as you finish high-school, we'll let you move out. If you think that'll make you happy."

At twenty, I'd like to think I'm doing okay. I've worked hard to get myself to where I am now and I'm not backing down. The future may seem like a blur right now, but I'm sure I'll be fine. The future has always looked intimidating and sometimes, we just never learn until we push ourselves in there. no one else, but us can put us to where we need to get to.

I have my mum right behind me just in case shit doesn't turn out the way you want them to be, (which is always how it is,) let's just hope for the best for this one, 'cause if it's not okay, it's not the end.