There are many things to notice when you are left to your own devices in the house where you grew up.
The pantry has snacks and canned goods. Yours doesn’t. Your cupboards are too small for such variety. You don’t have nuts or hard candies or ice cream cones. And cans take up too much space so they have been mostly forbidden. But you’re doing alright … just not well.
The fridge has smoked salmon in the drawer. Yours doesn’t. It’s a treat. Your parents didn’t mind getting it when you mentioned you hadn’t had it in a while, in probably years at this point. This is on the cheaper side of such products, but it’s always been usurped in your budget for more necessary items like good protein for the week’s lunches. But you’re doing alright … just not well.
The shower has a shampoo you consider old fashioned. Yours doesn’t. This brand and scent of shampoo has been in this shower most of your life. There’s a new scent on the shelf above. Rose and strawberry. Old and new. The shampoo lathers immediately. The dollar a bottle stuff you buy doesn’t. You usually have to lather, rinse, and repeat with just a bit more. But you’re doing alright … just not well.
The bed has egg crate foam beneath its sheets. Yours doesn’t. You sink into the foam and feel your back at greater easy than it has been in months, maybe years now. Your bed has a nice mattress top though, and it’s still on–what some might almost call–the newer side. You sleep better than others though your body is a crumbling temple. But you’re doing alright … just not well.
There is an oddly isolating effect in house- and dogsitting in the house where you grew up. It’s easy, in the peace and quiet, to see and hear the differences between how you live on your own and how those who cared for you, those who have an empty nest now, live. They’re all just little things, minute differences, but they create odd sensations. Things are alright. You pay your bills on time. You budget for some fun and dates and treats and luxuries. You’re doing alright. You’re just not doing well … yet. Living on your own is a silent and almost unnoticeable struggle when you’re young. Give it time. Give it hope. Have faith that you’ll do well some day at some point. It can come with time.
