So, it’s finally happened. As of today I am truly homeless.
I wandered through the flat several times before finally slinging my bags over my shoulder and heading down to the Council offices at the foot of Cockburn Street in order to arrange to be placed in temporary accommodation. Said accommodation consisting of a B&B.
It hurts. It truly hurts. It was my home for two and a half years. As I was merely leasing, I obviously did not expect to reside there permanently. What I did expect though was that I would leave on my own terms as opposed to being unceremoniously turfed out.
In the end, I didn’t even bother cleaning up. I didn’t trash the place, but I fully expected never to see my deposit back again anyway. I just left the keys on the sideboard and walked out, closing the door behind me.
At the minute, I just want to cry. It’s all I want to do. I just keep wondering over and over again about why this had to come to happen to me, because I just don’t know why.
It’s one of those things which causes you to sit despondent and wondering as to what the point of anything is because there is nothing else left to think about.
I am homeless. My life, as I have known it, is over.