I own a bed

Last night I slept on a bed, for the first time since June. That makes it a total of nine month being bed-less. I know bed-less is not a word but it should be. I never imagined owning a new piece of furniture can make someone that happy. I know what you are thinking, why did you stay nine month without a bed. Well, see I bought a mattress a month after reaching to the U.S. and that was expensive, so I had to not buy anything else for few month to compensate for the dent in my budget caused by buying a brand new mattress with a student discount.

No one told me that getting a house together can take that long. No one told me that waiting for sales and bargaining for a thrifted sofa would still cost so much money. No one told me that I will hit my leg in the metallic rods of my bookcase, and get a shoulder pain from laying my mattress on my $100 bed. No one told me that I will cry the first time I see my new apartment bare. No one told me that packing my whole life in two suitcases will help me realise the uselessness of material objects. No one told me that I will be scared of sleeping alone, and will take around a month to switch off the bathroom lights before going to mattress.

I used to own a beautiful queen sized bed, with a crimson leather headboard. I had it for six years. Last June I came back from a trip, when I opened the house door to greet my mom, the door hit something, that something was my mattress. I hurried to my room, and found my bed bare without a mattress in the middle of my room. I realised that I wouldn't even get the chance to sleep on my bed for one last time. I could have pulled the mattress from outside and fixed the situation for the night, but that wasn't my decision to make. It was my parents decision to tell me that my time at that house was over. That my things are not truly mine, and it is time to find a bed somewhere else.