I had this vision after finishing graduate school a few years ago.

I would be living in a large urban city. Preferably Boston or New York City. I wouldn’t have a car. I would live in an apartment with character. With my own stuff carefully chosen by me. I would have this fantastic home theater system. And most importantly, I would be living by myself.

Well now.

The Boston or New York City didn’t happen. Having my own stuff didn’t really materialize. And I live with a roommate. But all in all…I nearly got everything.

The month before I moved out of Pittsburgh, I had talked about my own dreams and successes. Yeah, I think it’s time that I lived by myself I complained to a friend who had a large apartment complete with a large 12 x 12 rug and a projector. I am that age. And so I went back to my parents’ house in the ‘burbs of San Francisco while I searched for the right job. That right job was in the Mission of San Francisco, which in a few months, I moved there.

I decided that I would be ok with a roommate after intensive interviewing of potential people. I have been happy…and yet not. Three years later, I am still living in the same place with the same roommate. We have gotten used to each other…that if we changed habits, it would tip the balance. While most of my friends have moved at least once or twice or even thrice…I haven’t all.

What if I lived by myself? What if I came back to an empty apartment with only music to keep me company? And I could leave things where I wanted to without consideration of anybody. It would be all mine—and speak of my character.

The way my current apartment situation is like that although most things are not mine. My roommate often secludes himself in his room while I dominate the kitchen and the living room (not on purpose, but it’s because he doesn’t). It is as if it’s my own place, but I cannot act like it is.

There was a time in Pittsburgh where for several days I would walk up and down the stairs of my four bedroom house—I wouldn’t even see a single soul. My housemates’ rooms were always closed. Silence occasionally broken by the running water or footsteps. It was like living with ghosts.

After watching Paranormal Activity a few weeks ago, I suddenly liked having roommates. The sound of anything…I could blame on my roommate. Or even more so, I hope at least the demon doesn’t attack me first. Usually I always pick the room farthest away from the entrance.