My Own Salt

My friend told me a story about coming home with salt and groceries the other day. I want to have that feeling. I want to be able to go out and buy groceries for myself and come home to my own home. I want to buy my own salt. I don’t want to live with my parents anymore. Very desperately do I want to get the hell out. I should have been out years ago but things keep happening so that I have to stay, or that there’d be no point in moving. I want to be able to touch the thermostat. To have more than one friend over at a time, and to speak louder than a whisper past 11pm. To be able to drop something, or make any sort of a noise without someone bellowing up from downstairs asking what that noise was. To not be summoned downstairs by someone banging on the wall. To not be 24 and still living with my parents. If my friend (one in specific) were reliable I wouldn’t be in this situation, but I would probably be complaining about him instead.