The Last Of My Kind

I awoke one day, to a world filled with wonder. Not just any world and much more real than any dream. Yet somehow, it still seemed to be a dream. Not one to belabor such points, I began to explore my new found home. The place was quite nice and reasonably comfortable. More of a fixer upper than a brand new state-of-the-art kind of place. But it was mine and I was delighted to have secured it without the usual deposits and fees required of most places. I noticed after exploring that there was just one minor problem and set about finding a suitable solution.

Not exactly knowing what would work best, I decided to try several options instead of just the obvious. That line of thinking unfortunately opened up more doors than I had time to consider. SO I began to develop a criteria list. Even that turned out to be more difficult than I imagined. There were literally an infinite number of options and features.

I suspect most would have considered the hassle too much and ignored the problem. Me, well I had time to use and this seemed like something worth spending some of that time on. First, Iíd have to reduce the infinity confronting me. That turned out to be simpler than I thought. After a bit of thinking, it was clear that the most important criteria were the subjective/soft issues/items. The qualities I found appealing only occurred in a small percentage of that infinite number of options. Of course this left me with a selection of nearly impossible, almost unlikely, probably never happen, and others. Heck, even hell freezing over was more likely than some of the selections I had. Undaunted by improbabilities, (my own existence happened didnít it?), I proceeded to complete my search for a solution.

That was many years ago. And although I had found some interesting solutions none seemed to be what I wanted/needed. Neither easily frustrated nor likely to Ďgive upí, I continued my search but perhaps with less expectations or maybe even with less criteria. By now my home was certainly older and even though I kept things in good repair, there was always something that needed attention. The problem I had been trying to solve all these years never happened.

Just recently I got a notice telling me that my lease was nearly up and that I would have to move. In some ways I was relieved, the problem would become anotherís to solve. But it also seemed sad that I might not ever realize how lovely and grand things would be having solved the problem.

Not too long ago, rather than find another place for myself, I moved after finding another who would/could tolerate a roommate. We got along real well. Not that there was much privacy or personal space. I learned how to not be concerned about some things as a shared house/reality doesnít always permit autonomy. And I also learned how to be patient as I was the roommate. The house was in good shape and I had my own room, however most of the house was shared.

I lived like that most of the rest of my life. My roommate eventually moved on and left the house with me. I did a little remodeling but the house is mostly as it was when we both lived here. It was a nice older house but had great character and lots of handcrafted trim. I spent most of my time in that house and would often spend the days watching the world through my windows. I sometimes wondered what it would have been like to still have the lease on my first house. But then thinking about the problem I never solved causes the thoughts to vanish. Probably just as well.

As luck would have it my house was eventually put on the condemned list to be torn down. Seems that even older houses with character donít last forever. I wanted to feel bad and cry but knew in my heart that it wasnít really my house to begin with and that I was just renting the place. I cleaned the house up as best I could, now much older than I imagined. Even though I had youthful enthusiasm, I couldnít deny the years that accumulated in my life.

The eviction notice came today. It was nicely written and delivered in a loving way. I gathered my few belongings and with tears in my eyes, I prepared to leave. I had no idea where I would be going next. I guess pretty much like most of my life, serendipity played so much a part that I never worried about things. As I headed into other sections of the reality, I saw many beautiful and lovely houses. Each unique and individualistic. Each a dream come true. Of course, I could not afford the price but it was fun to look.

Near the outskirts, I found a home similar to the one I had left. It wasnít as showy as the ones I had just admired but that also meant less upkeep required. However, the no space available signs did depress me a little. I really had nowhere else to go. So I thought, why not hang about until one of these becomes available.

While hanging around one day I noticed something I had not ever seen before. At first I was perplexed and surprised and then I became a little jealous and sad. There were families living together. Sharing a house and their lives. I felt a bit left out.

I thought way back to my earlier times, and resurrected memories of those heady times. Feeling sure that even I had a family of some kind. I wondered about who and where and realized that my memory was fuzzy and Ö it made me cry. All these years I had never known loneliness and now it was thrust upon me like punishment for some crime.

I had always lived with a roommate most of my life and I was beginning to understand why. I was the last of my kind. And I had come here not knowing why. Perhaps another last kind might find we have some things in common. Like wondering why reality would even produce one of a kind.

If you should read this and discover that your roommate is one of a kind, have them contact me. I think we would enjoy sharing a few moments while there is still time.

I can be found most everyday, sitting beside the stream that flows just outside my house.

Located of course in the subconscious mind.


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