two: the week of january 21th-january 29th
boxes, boxes, fucking boxes.
crying and yelling and making up
and realizing we love each other too much
to succumb to the fact that:
the act of moving itself
is so absolutely unbearbale and involves so much money and ridiculous conversations, logistics and impositions on people’s sense of time and order that it
that all sentimentality that’d seem fitting for the situation gets sucked right out of it.
on interlochen’s graduation day it was so odd to go directly from “oh my god, you’re graduating, i’ll never see you, I don’t wanna go home, I love you, I love all of you!” to sweeping, checking off checklists and assessing how much poster putty you’ve left behind and fighting with your roommate (the one you’ll love forever and ever) about who REALLY messed up the sink & drew on the wall and SOMEBODY CLAIM THIS T-SHIRT OR I’M THROWING IT OUT.
I mean you’re supposed to be crying, but it’s like G-d’s way to save you from how sad it is to leave somebody you love. Copi Properties is coming in at 3pm and if you don’t have all your shit out of the fridge you aren’t getting your security deposit back, bitches.
there is no room for love here, only room for moving