I remember when I was younger that I never really had a place to call my own. I always felt like I was invading the space of others and it always made me feel uneasy.

I was always sitting in someone else’s chair or sleeping in someone else’s house. This was the case when I was living alone. I understood that I was renting the small space out and that my living situation isn’t permanent. It’s not a space that I’d even want to call my own.

I’ve had roommates, and I’d have to hide all of my belongings in my bedroom because the rest of the space was theirs. Common areas were the same thing: sitting on their couch, using their television, using their fridge.

I’m happy to say that this has changed.

I’m finally in a place where I can relax and call my own at the end of the day. I feel completely comfortable in this space, even though it’s small and there’s another person. In fact, I sincerely believe that the addition of Oliver into this mix really makes it work. Oliver is the reason why I feel at home.

I look around our room and you can easily see that there are so many elements of both of us. Disney stuff is on the bookcase next to the D&D books, my medication is littered next to his, and there are assorted gaming devices scattered around the living space. A sure sign that we’re compatible, n’est pas?

I’ve finally found my own little corner, in my own little chair. I can be whatever I want to be.

Finally, I’m home.

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