This blog photo made lovingly with PicMonkey

My last night in Miracle Mile ended the same way it began–with a bottle of champagne.

Scratch that, I’m too tired for champagne. I do have it in my fridge, but I really just wanted to open with that line.

When I first moved into this apartment, Adam and I celebrated by opening up a bottle of bubbly. I didn’t know what to expect living completely on my own. I knew it would be weird, since I’d lived with a roommate before. I knew it’d be lonely. I knew it’d be quiet.

I thought it would give me my own private space to work on all of my creative side projects. I thought my place would be like a castle where I could go and escape from the world. I thought I was hip living in the city, traveling by foot for groceries and coffee, a block away from the popular El Rey theatre, bars like Busbys, and a ton of restaurants.

What you think about things before they happen is usually wrong though.

In truth, I’m a little tired of this place. It never felt like home, really. I was new to this side of town when I moved here last year, and I didn’t really feel like I fit in. I was never able to ‘escape’ from the world the way I wanted to. I never quite got around to decorating it the way I wanted to, either. The week nights were lonely, and I found myself wishing I was with Adam more often than not. I also found myself feeling like I wanted to go ‘home’ to my side of town, and that this place was just where I was bunking in for a while.

I guess that’s how people feel when they move away from their home towns. Alone, and more alone. I felt lucky that my mom was only a freeway drive away, but I still felt worlds apart from everyone.

I think maybe this place felt foreign to me because I couldn’t make it 100% cozy somehow. Or just…mine. I’m really not sure why. I want to pin point it, but I can’t. It could have been because of my wickedly harmful imagination though, too. I think living here in this studio alone spooked me the majority of the time, and that was probably the reason I couldn’t quite ever relax.

Don’t get me wrong, Saturdays in bed here with my laptop were probably my favorite days as an independent adult. And the days when I could just hibernate all weekend and work on my projects were pure bliss. And I loved the people outside always, laughing, yelling, and singing. There was never a lull in sound or excitement anywhere, which in truth made it feel like a weekend the majority of the time.

I’m glad I did it, for experience-sake.  I made the decision to leave the shared apartment I had with my friend Mario, and live on my own because I wanted to get a taste of true independence before I ever settled down with anyone for good. I had a feeling it wasn’t permanent, but is anything? I don’t regret it a single day and I won’t for the rest of my life. I’ll know progressing forward that I lived completely on my own for a year, and I’ll have some good stories for the kids. I really and truly wanted this experience, and I’m savoring it like pizza. I’ve tucked it nicely into a warm, waiting space in my heart, next to the unforgettable memories of my last apartment, and of my father. I’m more than ready for what lies ahead, and so profoundly excited.

Tomorrow is going to be a monster of a moving day. I only hope to be fed carbs and beer every 5 hours, and I’ll be set.

Oh yeah, and the KINGS PLAY TOMORROW NIGHT. We won’t have our TV set up but we are camping out at a nearby bar to watch them dominate.

Happy weekend, guys. Giveaway soon, I promise. I’m trying to get you guys money and liquor. It’s taking longer than I thought.

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Monique Muro

Monique is an exceedingly happy human from LA. She runs the blog A Novel Quest, and writes. A lot.

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