Friday, February 20, 2015


I love having a little time to myself.
Listening to music, getting emails sent, tidying up, making lunch.
It's not often I get to do this anymore, with school and work and all.
Roomates add to this.
I spelled it wrong intentionally.
You see, with roommates, there is no room, no space. Even space for quiet. There's always bustle and noise, people over, and chatter chatter chatter.
Living with other people is hard. Growing up in a big family, I thought that the constant goings-on were just a part of being in a family, ad it is, but its a part of life too, and I have a really hard time getting used to it.
Part of it is space, that is, physical space. Three people in one room is a lot, and even though I lived with my two sisters in one room for years, this is different. Separated from the context of family, sharing space is awkward and frustrating. It's like being in a family that has no unconditionals. If you're frustrated, you can't just express your frustration. I miss the closeness and understanding of family, the safeness. You don't ever really feel left out in a family, either. You're all there for each other. Always.
Three is a hard number. One person is always set apart. Being an introvert and the least close to them, that's usually me. And I'm hypersensitive to it, which is my fault, not theirs.

So when I'm enjoying that little, scarce time to myself and The apartment gets bombarded with stress, hurrying, noise, and small rude gestures, I do get upset. And I don't want to talk, chat about your boyfriend, or the plans you made for people to come over  the weekend that I am not a part of and wasn't asked about.
I just need space.

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