My Own Apartment

August 5, 2009

You came with me to visit my new super and pay first and last.  I was bent-over-backwards, submissive, accommodating. I always hated looking for apartments, and it was still a landlord’s market. I was ready to agree to anything just to have the deal done, to definitely have a place to live.

You had moved out months before, but we were hanging out again. An ambiguous relationship. Of course, I couldn’t pay rent on the loft by myself forever, so I had to find something, a 200 foot bachelor with a hot plate and a twin bed.

It stings how, afterward, you looked at me. How you said “I’ve never seen you act like that before”. I sensed your distaste, but also some tenderness. I saw your eyes open to the sight of me outside the safety of our childhood bond. To you, it was ugly. It still stings.


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