I didn’t think looking at an apartment for rent would be such an experience. Obviously because of what happened. I now have to find somewhere to live urgently, and after realising I liked the apartment of course brought the fear that I won’t get picked. This feels like dating, it’s all more stress.
When I walked in the door I was greeted by the smell of a light men’s cologne. You could instantly see there wasn’t clutter, no cardboard boxes on the floor, and a proper bed. It was very different to the first time I went to his place. This is what I’m used to.
The little round table made me smile, after lots of square vs round table debate, which we now know didn’t matter as he didn’t want to be with me.
The man re-renting the apartment was tall, cute, and well-dressed. Everything I would have picked if I was dating. No lovely smile, although I didn’t see that with mein schneke the last times I saw him either.
I didn’t expect to find him cute, and maybe there is just a drop of hope I will like someone else again one day.
But so much has to happen in the meantime and even if I ever liked someone again the amount of work needed to trust them would be insurmountable after this experience.
I miss having someone look at me like they love me. I miss his smile, I miss having a home. My new life of begging strangers to help me out of the dark hole I’ve been put in doesn’t compare to the life and safety I had.
Let’s see if I can hope for a miracle and get out of this hotel before I go nuts