Written by Alexandria O'Connor
I can’t sleep. Apparently, insomnia is a guest in my home when my life is falling apart. Ha-ha. This is going to suck, I have to work at 8:30 AM. Let me tell you, living in a city is only cool if you work in the city. I have to wake up super early to return a damaged guitar that I was CHARGED for solely because Covid-19’s use of people picking things up from your house, didn’t work out the way guitar center had planned. Solid.
Listen, my life has taken a hard-left turn. It was like everything was going great. I mean great! Then, one day, all of a sudden, things just up and decided to go to shit. Pretty wild if you ask me. I’m pretty good at staying out of trouble down here. I wasn’t always, but I am now. I don’t even go anywhere. It’s corona season, and not in the way that you would expect.
I think everyone is experiencing something crazy right now, but damn, do I wish I had someone to spend it with. Really, my friends are the only reason I have been getting through this. I have some great ones, I really do. It’s routine, wake up on Saturday morning, text the boys, go to the pool, drink, tan, talk, sing, dance, go home and make dinner. I love it more than anything.
But I am terrified, one day, that will go away too. That’s what I’m good at—messing things up. That’s all I’m really good at anymore, I mess things up. I play games too much, with other people and myself, and, more importantly, I play games with what will happen in my life. I like ot gamble with the devil, and as if that wasn’t enough, I’m getting close to just giving up.
Moving home—like many times before, but I’m getting tired, and I think it’s time that maybe, I stop pretending that the city is mine. Maybe I belong to the city. Maybe the city called my name, and I didn’t call its. Maybe, it’s time I stop fighting for a home in the place, and I let it push me away the way it has been since I moved here in 2017.