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''Living'', written on 3 September, as I was sick and locked in my cubicle of a bedroom in Mainz on my first weekend...

I find it interesting to consider my progression over the last several years. I remember a time when I thought I would never want to move away from home; I didn’t want to go off to college, and thought I would go to community college, live with my parents, ride my horse, and life would continue much as it had. This phase was succeeded by one where I would have given anything—including body parts and first born child—for the chance to go to Europe. I wasn’t allowed to be an exchange student; I was too young and the programs were expensive. I am not sure which of the two was more important, but in any case, I didn’t go, and I don’t criticize my parents for their decision. I probably could have handled being on my own at that age, but, as my mother said, it wasn’t a limited time offer, and I lost nothing in waiting a few more years, and gained perhaps quite a bit more.

Anyways, facing my senior year in high school, faced with senioritis leading me to cut many of my classes (yes, I cut classes. Yes, I still got As. Bad reinforcement?). I didn’t want to go to college; I had no idea what I wanted or why I would be there, and it was lots of money and just more school. And I still wanted to go to Europe.

So I went. I found myself a family on the internet, made an arrangement with them, and two weeks after my high school graduation left for Europe. I arrived in the company of our former exchange student, with whose family I spent the next few weeks. From the time of my arrival to the beginning of my aupairship I was either with friends or with my mother.

As I said goodbye to my mother and my friends and watched them drive away, leaving me in a small town on the Baltic with a family I had met only upon ringing their doorbell, for whom I would work for a year, it was the first time I had lived away from home. It would be some time before I saw my family again. I was on my own…

…but I was still with a family. I managed to pick a good one, or they picked me, but they helped me out, made sure I got my papers in order, was registered for whatever I needed to be, got where I was going, could decipher the train timetables, dropped me off and picked me up places, leant me their car, entrusted me with their kids and 100 euro bills. Basically adopted me.

I shared a bathroom with three girls, and a house with five other people. I was part of a family; we ate together, we did things together. In sight of this, it was a bit of a change for me to suddenly be living in a condo near the university, with two roommates whom I didn’t know. Not part of a family. I was so used to someone being there all the time with whom I could converse, with whom I could go for walks or who would interrupt me while reading, who would suggest movies or sit with me while I ate. I hardly saw my roommates, and when I did, we never progressed much beyond small talk. If I got bored, I called my mother to talk, or went for walks.

It took me awhile to get used to this level of being alone. Sometimes I was lonely. I had a hard time starting new friendships and the first several months saw me sitting at home a lot. The last several months I had friends, and conversely, it didn’t bother me so much when I was alone. I ejoyed it when my roommates weren’t there on weekends; I could turn on the radio at 5 AM if I wanted, without bothering anyone.

Once again, it was a bit of a lurch to be back with my respective German friends, to live with a family, then to live with a family with kids. I had to go for walks by myself because I was unused to the constant company.

As I was looking for apartments I thought I wanted a single, no roommates, just me. Then I could turn my radio on at 5 AM if I wanted to, I could have a dog, I could clean the kitchen or not. I looked at a single apartment, I looked at a boarding house that had the detractions of shared space (me and 13 others sharing two bathrooms and one kitchen) without the benefits (company of other people). They all looked so lonely. The apartment where I ended up holds four people, and I am looking forward to it. And on my search I made some new friends, whom I will hopefully keep. One step forward…

Some part of me would enjoy living alone. Other parts of me need the company. I am facing six weeks of a single apartment, the size of a hotel room, and no option to call my mother if I get bored.