Living on my own felt like a necessary step, though I hadn’t come to the formal conclusion that I was, in fact, “ready.” It wasn’t even something I really wanted to think about, but I had been offered university apartment housing from the wait-list and thought that I should take it. As I walked through the chilly January air, I decided on optimism, so I optimistically climbed the stairs to 4C and knocked. The door swung open, revealing a big guy with long hair.
“Hi, um, I’m going to be living here,” I said.
“Hi,” he said, and went back to his room.
