no one talks about how transitory your 20s are. and it’s just not as simple as moving apartments and leaving behind cities.
it’s that white mug that said “you’re a twat” on the bottom. you loved it and it made your one-night stands laugh, but you lost it in one of the countless moves like you lost your grandma’s ring and for some reason you keep having to buy hangers.
it’s the $300 you’ll spend on ikea every time but how no amount of money spent on decorations will make you feel like you’re finally home until finally you get to one airy apartment and life feels like it could count again.
it’s the intense anger you will feel when the new transportation systems feels inadequate and confusing and you will figure it out just as it is time to leave again, but eventually all cities will start to look the same.
it’s having to find a place that serves your favorite wine. it’s fun but it’s also exhausting because we tell ourselves we want a life of adventure but usually we just need a glass of red. and you won’t have your best friends to search for it with you, even though you’ll text them (and there will be so many, but so few who feel real) when you find it.
you’ll keep your area code from “home,” because changing it feels too committed and what if this place fails you too. your resume file will see too many changes to the address line. it’ll seem like you finally landed the dream job, but then maybe your boss will grab your ass and there will never be ink in the printer and the office will have good coffee but never enough filters.
everyone around you will seem so put together, but they can’t find their favorite books anymore either, and no one has time to look through mom’s attic. i think we grow up believing there is no period of growth, that we become “adult” in a moment, but that is what our 20s are for. it means we will be lonely for months on end and it means there will be no one to help us sometimes, but that is okay because this is how we become people who do without being asked or being told.