An Open Letter To The Mouse In My Apartment

by Bailey Jordan Garcia

I apologize for the initial hesitance I had towards your arrival. By the broom in one hand and electric fly swatter in the other, I bet you can tell I don’t host often.

You must admit, I dressed up for the occasion! Wearing my highest heels, so that we would never have physical contact — since I haven’t been touched (in any way) in a couple weeks and the first time it happens it will not be by you.

I told my mother about your visit, as I would now be splitting the rent, and she said she was glad. She said she was happy that I was no longer alone.

My therapist often tells me to get out more — apparently sulking in a basement apartment doesn’t help depression. But with you around, I’ve gotten a tan for the first time in my life. I sit in Central Park and wonder how it is that you and I have managed to switch homes for the time being.

Yesterday a friend at school apologized to me. Said she was sorry that the girl I loved didn’t love me back. And I laughed. Truly, I did. Because I haven’t thought about her since you arrived.

Your unwelcome distraction has almost been a blessing. Fear has replaced unrequited love in my daily routine. Now, I go to sleep glad to be the only one tossing in my bed.

So, I’m sorry, little friend, for my previous conceptions. I now know at the end of the day, we are two tiny specks in the universe — traversing our way in and out of places we hope we can call home. That both of us are just trying to survive.