"The Roommate"

I had been living alone in a small apartment for a few months when I decided to get a roommate to split the costs. I posted an ad on social media and received a few responses, but none of them seemed quite right. That was until I got a message from a guy named Ali. He seemed friendly and responsible, and we chatted for a bit about our interests and lifestyles. I was hesitant at first, but something about him seemed trustworthy, so I agreed to meet up with him to discuss the details.

When Ali arrived at my apartment, I was immediately put at ease. He was smiling and friendly, and we quickly discovered that we had a lot in common. We both loved playing guitar and watching old movies, and we spent the first hour of our meeting jamming together and talking about our favorite films. I was sold - I knew I wanted him as my roommate.

The first few weeks of living together were great. Ali was clean and considerate, and we quickly fell into a comfortable routine. We would cook dinner together a few times a week, and the rest of the time we would do our own thing. I was happy to have someone to come home to, and I felt like I had finally found a true friend.

But as the months went by, things started to change. Ali began to get a little more sloppy, leaving his dishes in the sink and his clothes all over the floor. I tried to brush it off at first, but it started to get on my nerves. I would clean up after him, but it felt like I was doing all the work. And then there were the parties. Ali loved to have friends over, and while I didn't mind at first, it started to get old. The music would be blasting until late at night, and I would have to work the next day. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just laughed it off and said I was being uptight.

One night, things came to a head. Ali had a big party, and I had had enough. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just ignored me and kept on drinking. I went to my room and tried to sleep, but the music was too loud. I finally had to go out and ask him to turn it down, and that's when things got heated. He started yelling at me, telling me I was a buzzkill and that I needed to relax. I tried to stay calm, but I was getting angry. I told him that I had had enough, and that he needed to start pulling his weight around the apartment. He just laughed and told me to get over it.

After that night, things were tense between us. I tried to avoid him as much as possible, but it was hard when we were living in such close quarters. I started to feel like I was walking on eggshells, never knowing when he would blow up at me again. And then, one day, I came home to find that he had trashed the living room. There were beer bottles and pizza boxes everywhere, and it smelled like a dumpster.

It was a difficult conversation to have, but it needed to be done. I was relieved when he finally agreed to leave, and I was grateful to have my apartment back to myself. Looking back, I realize that I should have been more careful when choosing a roommate.