Chapter 37
Photo by Will Tarpey on Unsplash
I am turning 38 this summer and currently in a chapter of my life that is oddly magical. A bit unorthodox, admittedly, yet it’s so beautiful and so unique I’m not anxious to close it.
I’ve often joked about my living situation in an outdated apartment building in downtown Columbus, Ohio. Our building resides above a restaurant and jewelry store and is home to a few women in their late thirties/early forties and a gaggle of twenty-something year old boys. It’s here that, despite being having graduated from college more than 15 years ago, I feel like I am living in the dorms again.
But with 401(k)s, I always add jokingly.
Eight apartments make up the second floor and through the years I’ve learned each and every tenant. Together, we’ve celebrated birthdays and weddings and had routine “Neighbor Nights” of cooking for the crew.
As the years have passed - over half a decade for me - I’ve found most of the neighbors have moved on while I’ve remained. Whether their next step was buying a house or moving away, those I shared with have come and gone, and new faces and names have replaced the initial crew. The last original tenant that remains is me.
Am I the last one to leave the party?
When you live life outside the lines, it’s hard to know what is “right” or “wrong” or “normal” because so few are living in a similar situation.
My college roommates have all bought homes with their husbands or moved into their homes. That had been my plan. I had my down payment saved and was just waiting for the right man to start that chapter of my life.
And now five years have passed and I find myself uncertain of how I move forward. Ohio is not my home. It doesn’t feel right to put down roots here, 700 miles away from my hometown and my family.
Where do I belong? What am I doing? Am I falling behind as I continue to throw money down a dark hole called “rent” each month? Am I being irresponsible?
But as old neighbors at my building have moved out, new friendships formed with those who moved in. Most recently, a friend moved into an open unit and quickly my mornings of struggling to get out of bed were replaced with 7:30 AM yoga sessions. I started my day centering myself in community with my friend.
My nights became impromptu dinners and movie nights with the girls in my building, and my weekends brunches and euchre tournaments. With the addition of my other friend’s lab, we even have a new mascot - Sundae.
There are moments when doubts creep in. It’s an effort to quiet them.
I should own a house by now.
I can’t stay forever.
This isn’t permanent.
It’s only a matter time until they all move on like the last ones did.
Am I going to be the last one remaining again?
It’s an internal tug of war of wondering what I should be doing with my life and what my next line is when I know I’m reading off script.
I feel more ready for the next step in my life than I have in since I arrived in Columbus, but I find myself not anxious to leave this magical world that I stumbled into five years ago. I like it when the young 20-year-old boys who live across and down the hall come to me for advice and hugs. I like giving them the advice I wish someone would have given the guys I dated at that age.
Be honest.
If you want to text her, text. Don’t feel like you have to let days pass.
Show up, be a gentleman, pay for her dinner, be respectful.
The hardest and easiest part of it all is just communication.
At times, it may seem odd the amount of time I spent with 23-year-old boys, and yet I love it. The other night I hung out in my friend’s apartment working on his paint by number while he practiced guitar. It was unplanned and yet perfect.
I have these moments a lot.
Whether it’s laying around in sweatpants on a random Friday night sipping wine and White Claws with friends, or deep in pigeon pose on Monday morning with my neighbor next to me, I realized that I only start to wonder when I am looking too far in the future.
I take a deep breath and focus on today. And it’s then that despite my life not aligning with my peers, I can’t help but hear my heart whispering quietly.
But I’m really, really happy.
This part of my life could not have been predicted. Never while growing up did I think this would be my story. But I’m grateful for this community I love in - my own complex big-hearted family.
I know it can’t last forever. But for now, I think I’m satisfied just enjoy the magic a little bit longer.