A New Home, New Fears, and Old Dreams

Today I decided to share a little about what's happening in my life. I haven't written anything for over a week; moving has consumed most of my time, especially disassembling and reassembling furniture—particularly assembling new furniture, which, unlike the half-assembled pieces I moved, took up much more time.

Yes, I finally moved out of that tiny apartment in an old building that once served as a hotel—the old hotel sign still hanging outside. It was a small studio in Koreatown, LA, equipped with a miniature refrigerator, the kind you might see in train compartments—I recall seeing similar ones back in Russia on long-distance trains. There were just two small electric burners and no oven in sight. Beside them was a tiny sink and only one small cabinet for kitchen utensils. The apartment had no air conditioning or heating, just a ceiling fan, so I had to buy a heater because nights could get very cold. Laundry was shared in the building, not in-unit, but even that was a luxury compared to going to a laundromat. Overall, you can imagine, it wasn’t glamorous, but I managed to make it cozy. And of course, there was no parking; for over six months, I parked my car on the street. Every night after work at the club, returning home late, I had to circle for 5-10 minutes to find parking, sometimes walking another 10 minutes to get home in the dark. It was tough.

Now, after a year, I finally managed to afford an apartment in DTLA on the 22nd floor with a balcony, overlooking LA's Financial District and its high-rise buildings, in a building that has parking and security. It has a balcony, parking, and security. And what delights me most is that I rented this place on my own, without needing a guarantor, unlike my first apartment in the U.S.

This new place is also a studio but twice as large as the previous one. I even had to buy additional furniture, which is genuinely pleasing. Now, my bedroom and living area are separate, divided by a small partition wall. Finally, I have a fully equipped kitchen and a spacious balcony with a stunning view. And, of course, my beloved car now has its dedicated parking space in the building.

As a child, I dreamt of exactly this: living in US, high above the city, enjoying a spectacular view. Even now, I feel as though I’m living in an American movie—a sensation few can truly understand. Since childhood, this was my dream. At first, I feared it might all be just a dream—that I'd wake up and discover none of this was real. Fortunately, it's not a dream; it's a reality I created myself. I worked hard and feel proud of how much I've accomplished within just one year.

Now that I have a wonderful apartment, a car, and a bit more stability, I've found peace within myself. I feel calm and content, despite knowing there's a court hearing and paperwork looming next year. For now, though, I can travel more, indulge in luxurious purchases to spoil myself, dedicate more time to writing, and connect more with people in my free time rather than solely through work.

After a half-year hiatus from social life, I’ve finally begun meeting up with both old acquaintances and new people. I'm making an effort, yet trust still comes very slowly. Recently, I realized that whenever I start to like someone, I immediately withdraw emotionally, closing myself off from any developing feelings, afraid of getting hurt again. I don’t know how to handle this or overcome it. Deep down, I yearn to love again, even though it terrifies me. Perhaps, with time and the right person by my side, I'll be able to open my heart once more.