What a day. I moved home, leaving behind a messy apartment full of wonderful roommates, a snowy city full of a thousand memories, and the part of me that belonged to exclusively to all of it. I'm home. I'm exhausted. I'm content.
I've loved this room I shared with Hillary, funny prison beds and all. I don't think the room itself has been a big part of my life, but the time in my life in which I've occupied it has been. The emptiness looks so strange.