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There was sweat dripping down my forehead. I tied my hair back as I ventured back onto my couch. Standing near the edge of it, I looked over the armrest, hesitantly. In my hand, I held the third shoe I hoped would extinguish the intruder that invaded my apartment. I could see my two lost soldiers on the floor next to my lamp. Below, I saw the enemy slowly making his way out from under my couch; a ploy to fool me I would soon discover. I had my parents on the phone with me for emotional support, though they did not give much.
They told me I was being ridiculous, but hey just did not understand. This was the first encounter I had had with this species since I had moved out on my own. It was the biggest one I had ever seen. Six months of peace were disrupted by the creature that I was now at war with. I was down another shoe. I could see its little legs moving beneath my right boot that I had thrown earlier. My parents finally gave me a piece of advice I could use; putting my shoe on to kill the beast.
I was able to find what little courage and bravery I had left in me. Carefully stepping up onto the edge of my couch, I lowered my foot down and into my boot. I stepped down as hard as I could. I became a war survivor that night. I killed my enemy: the biggest cockroach I had ever laid eyes on.
When I moved into my apartment nine months ago, I was terrified of more than a cockroach. For the entirety of the two-hour drive to Hattiesburg, I bawled my eyes out. I did not know anyone here. My family and friends were all at home. I was about to be experiencing so many new things and new people, and I was all alone.
The first night was the worst. I had never slept with music playing, but for the first few weeks, I had to. I was not used to complete silence. I could not hear my brother in the room next to mine yelling about how slow our Wi-Fi was. I did not hear my dad watching TV downstairs with the volume way too loud. I did not hear my mom yelling that dinner was ready. My dog howling was a sound I never thought I would miss.
The longer I was alone, though, the more comfortable I became. I went to orientation week and met my friends who I would not trade the world for. I was no longer alone all the time. However, I discovered a love for my own solitude. I strongly believe that had I not been living alone these past months, I would not know myself as well as I do now. The amount of change I have experienced as a person this past year alone has been astronomical. I do not know if I could recognize who I was before.
There are advantages to living with another person or multiple people, of course. Financially it is a lot better, and it is nice to have company. Unfortunately for my bank account though, I love living alone. I no longer feel the need to be surrounded by people all the time like I did in high school. I do not feel like my world is ending if I go a few days without talking to my friends because no matter how long we go without speaking, we pick up right where we left off.
The disadvantages of living alone are still very present. At first, I did get lonely sometimes. It takes a while to get used to the newfound solitude you find yourself in. There is no one to blame for the state of your apartment when it gets messy except yourself. Then you have to be the one to clean it all. Plus, as someone who hates to cook, guess what? You have to cook.
As with anything, living alone has positives and negatives. The outweighing of one or the other varies from person to person. But for me, I would not want it any other way; even if I have to climb up on my countertops to change lightbulbs, even if I struggle to open my ice cream by myself sometimes because it is frozen shut, or even if I must go to war to kill a cockroach by myself.
The truth is, no matter how much they love you, your parents are not going to drive two hours to kill a bug for you. If you call them, they are going to laugh at you, but I would not have it any other way.