Sometimes I imagine my life in the future when I’m sitting on my couch in my apartment eating take out and watching Jane the Virgin. I wonder if I’ll live with someone that I’m in love with and we have to work out how to share the apartment.
I wonder if I’ll have a good job. I wonder if I’ll live in a “safe” neighborhood. I wonder if I’ll look around me and wonder if I’m actually trying to live a real and honest life.
Those questions are part of why I figured I should travel for the rest of my life. I don’t really have a home, I just set up wherever I’m able to stay at. My dorms have been my home for the past four years, the few times I go back “home,” I’m generally sleeping on couches or in guest rooms.
Maybe that’s the life for me, you know? Always couch surfing, never actually owning my own couch. I can see myself always hoping that others would be courteous enough to me to let me stay around.
It feels weird to think about those things. I’ve been thinking about them for a while, but people around me have generally told me not to worry about it, because I have “all the time in the world” to worry about it. But I’m going to graduate in less than a year, and I find myself pretty freaked out about what June is going to look like. I’m freaked out about what the day after Commencement is going to look like, to be honest.
I believe that it’s going to work out. When I sit on my couch, home alone, looking around at the empty chairs and closed cabinets filled mostly with dust and air and a few dishes, it’s hard for me to believe that these past four years were somewhat of a safety net for me, because I really didn’t know how and where I was going to live if I didn’t go to college. Now it’s time for the next step.