therealljidol - week 9 - topic: unprepared.
So, moving day had come. I wasn't even fully packed yet. Go figure. But, I figured... whatever. I was only moving onto my schools campus about twenty minutes away. If I forgot something.. whatever. I wasn't that far away. So, me, my parents, and one of my best friends hopped into the car with my luggage and made our merry way towards freedom.
My thoughts were going a mile a minute. "I can't wait. Oh my god, this is going to be amazing. Oh my - oh my god, what in the hell...". We had arrived at the campus. It was a ZOO. And that was putting it mildly. It was raining and it took like half an hour to figure out which room I was in. But, then we got it. We walked in and saw... my roommate. Oh yeah. I had forgotten about her in all of the excitement. But, hey, that was okay. We had communicated over email for awhile and she seemed nice enough. Besides, we actually had separate bedrooms, we just shared a bathroom. No big deal. Except.. well, why was her stuff in both rooms? Refusing to be daunted, I asked her:
"Hey.. [insert roomates name here.. actually.. we'll call her B.]. Why is your, um.. stuff in both rooms?"
"Oh," was her reply. "I haven't figured out which one I want yet."
Uh huh. Okay. So, we sit there for a bit as she figures out which one is better. (I am not gonna lie to you guys. They were both exactly the same.) Then, her mom and her sister leave and it's just us and her. I get my stuff unpacked, and glance around. This doesn't look like home. This roommate of mine who has no been singing some Broadway musical song at the top of her lungs totally off key.. I have to live with her? (Don't get me wrong, I adore Broadway musicals. Just, not sung by her. I'm just sayin'." I glance at my best friend who is already inching towards the door. She's made her opinion clear from the beginning. What the HELL is this place? Something along those lines. Then I shift my glance to my parents. "Mom?" I say softly. I suddenly don't want them to leave. But, they do. A blur of hugs, and words like "We'll see you soon. Call us. Have fun!".
I blink a few times when they're gone and swiftly whipe that wet thing off my face. Come on, Steph. What's wrong with you? This is what you WANTED. FREEDOM! My roommate comes in and suggest we go hang out with some of the rest of the freshmen. Yes. This is good. I glance once more at my computer which would not have the internet for four more days (something I was UNAWARE of until I got there.) and then agree to go with her, holding onto my cell phone.
We meet some people. Two guys. One of them immediately starts hitting on me. I tell him I have a boyfriend. He spends the rest of the few minutes we stood with them (really, the rest of the year.) asking me how serious it was and if I was SURE that it was going to last forever. Because, if not... *sigh*. Then, we met some short-ish girl with pink hair. She seemed interesting at least. And she told me she was going to teach me how to play the guitar. Alright then. Cool. (Actually, that girls name is Faithe and she remains a very good friend of mine to this day. She might even be reading this. Hi Faithe!).
We mingle some more, turning each corner to find a group of people drinking (this was like 2:00 pm) or smoking up at each point. This was weird. Okay, no. This was NOT what I wanted.
My then boyfriend arrived. He was over it from the moment he stepped in, which is okay. I mean, he was eight years old than I was.. for him, this was "been there, done that." I pleaded with him to get me the fuck out of there. He obliged and we spent that day together. But, he eventually had to take me back.
The next few days was a whirlwind. It seemed at every turn things got weirder and weirder. One of the few friends I had made thus far, packed up her stuff and went home. My roommmate got weirder and weirder and found a boyfriend very quickly who was even weirder than she was. After only two days, I had her number - my money went missing, dishes in the sink piled up towards the ceiling, and their loud sexual encounters still haunt my dreams. Also, the fridge smelled from.. whatever they had put in there. (They took out my alcohol to make room for their funny smelling things. And drank it. Another lovely habit.) Thank god for Faithe and her roommate Michelle and my other friend Melly, or I would have LOST it. As it was I came pretty close. I broke down a few times and called my parents begging them to let me come home.
"This isn't what I wanted1" I cried out. "I'm not ready for this!"
They wouldn't budge. Understandably so, now. Then, I thought they were evil. EVIL.
My boyfriend couldn't do much to help either. He was living with his parents again, trying to save up some money.
I didn't get it. With no one telling me what to do and how to do it, I was left to figure it out by myself. I didn't like that.
And the classes - oh the classes were nothing like high school. This was HARD.
I tried. I tried and I tried, but I could not adapt to this "grown up" life. I couldn't handle being on my own with all of this freedom. I couldn't handle the crazy roommate. I just wasn't ready for any of it. My first semester marks were dismal, to say the least. I didn't eat for awhile.. no, I mean, I COULDN'T eat, so high was my anxiety. I lost weight and then put it (and more) back on second semester when I started to use eating as a way of coping with the stress of it all.
For the first little while (okay, almost the whole year.), I wanted to be back at home. I recognized how odd it was, that I wanted to be back at home. After all, I was the one who pushed to be out in the first place. I was the one who couldn't WAIT to get out.
We eventually came to an agreement - I spent the week on campus and on Friday nights, I went home until Sunday. But, even with that agreement, I was unhappy. Totally unhappy.
I didn't get it then.. but I guess now I do. There is a difference between wanting something - and being READY for that same something.
After that year, I moved in with my boyfriend. We lived together for three years until we broke up this past April, and while I was living with him I was fine. Ironically, I now live with my dad and want to get out again. Go figure. But, it's not so bad anymore.. and now I know that when I do get out, I'll be fine. I just wasn't ready then. I was totally and completely unprepared for the life that I thought I wanted.
Live and learn...