I was a mess last night. My boyfriend took me to see the newest Purge movie {{which should have been fine, but with everything that has been going on lately, I was not in a good place to see a violent movie}}, which should have been fun, but every time I see him I feel less and less safe.

I got to the parking lot—hereafter known as “my parking lot”—around midnight, but could not manage to get to sleep until several hours later. I was unable to take any Benadryl, due to the movie, so trying to sleep was a painfully slow process. It rained, of course, but I had to leave the windows cracked to minimize fogging {{plus I was desperate for some fresh air}}. Around 1am, a car pulled into the lot and turned around, but sat idling somewhere to the left of my car. I could see the taillights—more specifically the red light given off by the presumed taillights—and I could hear the engine, but I dared not move a muscle lest take the chance of being seen/caught. I am fairly certain is was a university police car because it was still idling each time I woke up—about an hour between each time. I eventually woke up at 6am, but just moved up to lay on the backseat. I just wanted to rest. I could not fall back asleep, but I did lie there for a bit. The lot was practically empty, which would make sense with it being Saturday and all. There was an occasional pedestrian or bicyclist, but no one bothered me.

Around 8am I did drive to my boyfriend’s apartment to take a shower. He was sleeping when I arrived—much to my pleasure—so I quickly turned on the water in hopes that I could get in and out while he slept. Before I could get in, he loudly banged on the locked bathroom door. I dressed quickly and opened the door, having to come up with some stupid story when he asked why I was there and if I had access to my own shower. In my defense, the original plan was to arrive there when he was gone, but he changed plans just hours prior, so I was out of options.

I took a shower as fast as I possibly could and acted so chirpy and happy that I practically made myself sick. I just wanted to keep his mind on anything but asking me questions about my situation. Now, I have no issues with lying to him, I just want to have everything lined up in a row so as to eliminate the chance of contradicting myself.

I did not stay for very long as he was in a dreadful mood and I was in no rush to deal with his incessant complaining. It would probably be important to note that I was leaving to meet my parents, brother, and dog. I rarely talk to them [note to self: write a post about that] except when it concerns my baby girl [read: dog].

I re-packed the car to fit most of my things in the boot—hoping to avoid any innocent but unintentionally correct “homeless” remarks from my parents when I met up with them later.

Traffic was fine. I made it safely and was so happy beyond belief to see my puppy. We went to the movies then to a few stores so I could spend time with her. I did my best to act civil and polite to my parents and brother. Things went better than expected. Much better, actually.

Eventually I had to say goodbye, which felt like my heart was being ripped out. I did get a bottle of Benadryl out of it though so, #winforme.

Now I am back in town, waiting for the boyfriend to finish up his stupid test online so he can leave and I can finally sleep in a bed. I just want to sleep right now.

More tomorrow.

I am sitting in the university’s academic halls right now. My hair looks like a grease bomb went off and my stomach is threatening to launch a full-on assault unless I shove some food its way.

.::.

…Night 1:
It was not a complete disaster. I left Walmart a little before 11PM—apparently that Walmart is not open 24/7 {{which, according to Google, signifies that it is located in a dangerous/high violence part of town….that would have been nice to know last night. At least there is one place I can mark off as a no-go for overnight stay}}. I drove back to campus and pulled into the parking garage. Much to my dismay, it was brightly lit with very few cars. I could have [[read: should have]] just parked on the second floor, which would have been the intelligent thing to do, but instead I chose to make my up to the third, and top, floor. At this point I should mention that the thought of a cop having parked on top popped into my head—which I conveniently ignored. Low and behold, as I turned the corner to drive up the ramp I saw the oh-so-familiar trademark headlights of one of our university police cars waiting at the top of the level. I smartly pulled into the nearest parking space before backing out and turning around. Now that they had undoubtedly seen my car, I had no other option but to find another place to stay, not wanting to risk them stopping by the car to see me sleeping on the floor.

I did not panic, but I was definitely ready to bang my head against the window in frustration of my own stupidity. I drove out of the garage and began making my way around campus to the different available lots. The first I passes was a faculty lot {{but in the summer, just about all of the lots are free-game to anyone with a valid decal}} which I noted as top choice—there were cars parked so I would not stand out; it was lit, but not excessively so; and there was virtually no traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, so little chance that someone would spot me.

I drove all around campus, but there were no better options. Too much light, empty lot, heavy foot traffic, etc. So I drove back to the faculty lot and parked—sometime around 11:14pm—cracking the windows just enough to keep them from fogging up too much, and to give me some fresh air. The rain had stopped at this point, but there was no telling if it would rain during the night so I crossed my fingers and hoped my gamble paid off well. I got on the floor of my car and strategically placed my bags to cover most of me. [[Note to self: remember to put a blanket on the floor as the carpet is incredibly uncomfortable]] Thanks to the Benadryl I took 2 hours prior, I eventually fell asleep—with the quite heavy laundry bag on top of my head I must add.

.::.

…Day 1:
I woke up to my alarm at 6:00am. I remember hearing it go off, but I was a little groggy at first. I could feel my left side going numb due to poor circulation, I could feel the moisture in the air—it was heavy and thick—and it was a comfortable temperature, not too hot or cold. Then I heard a variety of sounds—voices, machines—and it all came back: I was homeless. I was on the floor of my car and I was homeless.

I quickly silenced my alarm and fought off every urge just to lie back down and close my eyes. It took a little self-coaxing {{It is a thing. I have made it a thing, therefore it is}} to get up off the floor, but I eventually did. My paranoia was maxed out, which was sending my sympathetic nervous system into overdrive. Anytime I heard a car I would duck, until I realized if I just sat in the driver’s seat, nothing would seem out of the ordinary {{that and the fact that no one cared if I was sitting in my car, nor did any of them care enough to even think about coming to the conclusion that I just spent the night in my car}}.

Little by little the lot began to fill up, but no one gave me a second glance. By 7:20am I mustered enough courage to grab my backpack and make my way to the student union where I could brush my teeth, hair, and attempt to look like a civilized non-homeless person {{of which I failed miserably}}. I then sat at one of the computers on the second floor and completed several things I have been needing to do for weeks now. I still needed to make my way to the academic building so I could meet with my adviser after the exam to give him back two of the books I borrowed. I stayed for a bit, until around 9, I believe, then walked back to the car to swap some stuff out and eat my ‘meal’ for the day. It was a poor choice, and I feel sick just thinking about it. But it was food and I do not have the luxury of wasting food.

I made my way to the academic building and sat on some benches until 10:20 when I moved to near my adviser’s office. That way I could catch him as he walked back so I would not miss him. I gave him the books, took a doughnut that he offered {he picked up a dozen Duck Donuts for his students before this final exam}, and thanked him for allowing me to borrow the books. He asked if I talked to our Dean of Students {{about working out a place to live for the next 2 months before the fall semester}} so I just said that “yes, I sent him an email.” To which he just replied by asking if I was okay. I think I just nodded and gave a short “fine.” It took everything to keep from crying. He said that if I needed anything to just let him know. I left quickly, but did not make it very far before turning around and walking back into his office. As soon as I did, I immediately regretted it, but managed to utter that I had a stupid request and asked for a hug. He was sweet and said it was not a stupid request at all. He told me that everything was going to be alright.

I just needed a hug.

And right now I really just want to cry.

I left and rushed to the bathroom, but I did not cry. I just needed a minute. Once I composed myself, I walked back to the main lounge in the academic building, right outside the Psych office. I really wanted to tell him. When I got that email from the Dean on Wednesday, I determined that I was going to do whatever I could, short of lying, to make sure he did not find out. Now I want nothing more than to tell him; so someone else knows. Maybe I secretly want him to help or fix it—who knows?

That brings me to where I am now. Still in this building. Still sitting in a chair. Still typing.

I know I will not be able to talk to him—not unless I walked into his office—but I feel safer knowing that he is just a few steps away. He left for a little bit {{I almost thought that he left, which I figured could not be the case since he left his office door open}} and as each minute passed I got more and more anxious, I became more agitated, more paranoid, more terrified. As soon as I caught sight of him walking back up the stairs, I immediately calmed down.

So I shall sit here for as long as I dare, because I know I will not get to see or talk to him for at least 2 weeks. Just the thought makes me sick.

I have lost everything. He is the only person I have left—the only constant in my life right now.

Soon I will get back to the car and go over to my boyfriend’s to take a shower before he gets off of work at 4pm. I guess he wants to go to the store then later tonight we are going to see a movie before he has to leave for his parents’ house to take his physics exam tomorrow. That works out well because I will take a shower at his place in the morning before I drive to meet my parents, brother, and—most importantly—my beautiful dog for a few hours. I miss my dog so much it hurts. I will have to find a way to pack most of my shit in the boot of the car so it appears that I actually have a place to live.

I need to stop typing otherwise I will turn this into a novel. I will check back in later. Cross fingers that I will get to see my advisor again. I hate feeling like this.

As of 6:39pm today, I checked out of the room for the last time and am now homeless.

i am homeless.