The Weight

Our roommate is gone, moved out.

So there’s a weight that’s lifted, a sense of reclaiming a tiny bit of freedom, or independence, or of not doing what’s appropriate when someone else is sharing your space. He wasn’t a bad roommate. By all counts he was pretty damn good actually, but he was here, even if only by occupying a room in our basement.

There’s a definite logic to sharing space and living communally. Financially, practically, in terms of support people are so much stronger together.

But then there is the rest of us, the misfits.

I don’t think others share my urgency of solitude. That’s the weight, a great hazard in a highly socialized world.