Politics

As a single guy, I am no fan of Valentines’ Day. We are now seven weeks into winter, often with a gray haze and clouds all around. It’s cold, I’m stuck inside in my small little apartment that is rarely warm in part because I don’t like paying for the heat, and in part because it’s drafty and falling apart. Despite the foam I put around the door, one of the days it’s going to completely fall apart again. The vinyl windows have lost their seal, and the walls don’t line up with the foundation, allowing air to leak in freely on this blustery morning.

I got the news that I am likely losing my home 16 years this week, with the landlord selling the building. A place I’ve gotten to know so well, with many in-perfections but also the niceties of living somewhere that is walk-able and bikable, with good public transportation. I have to start the home search, be it an another apartment or buying a house. But I don’t want to move or give up on the life I’ve come to love — biking to work, walking down to the library, weekends in the wilderness.

My heart is so broken to be losing my apartment in the coming months. But it’s also tough to be so alone, in what often seems like the bleakest days of winter, before the dawn of spring. The nights are getting shorter, but not by much, and the mercury slightly warmer. Things will get better soon, but it’s so bleak right now. I have much to look forward to after this period of darkness.