I’m sitting in a very empty apartment right now. It is only slightly emptier physically – I’ve lived here for over four years if I can even wrap my brain around that, and PT had only lived here for about 10 months, so most of the things are mine and still here. But I’m sitting in PT’s spot on the couch just so there is something in it. The bed is HUGE with just me, Velma, and Pudge. I’m not crashing into someone else cooking in the kitchen.
I’m unshowered, because what is the point? I’m wearing super ratty underwear, because what is the point? I’m baking bread – small loaf. I’m making granola bars – mostly freezer bound. I cleaned the cat hair off the rug this morning – PT’s job. There are pictures of us everywhere that I just don’t know what to do with.
My freshmen year of college was full of long distance relationship drama. It seemed like everyone I met had one, including me, and eventually they all failed. As far as I know. I moved to Chicago after one year so I didn’t get all the follow up stories. But there was always someone screaming on the phone, someone crying in the bathroom, someone getting drunk and cheating on their boyfriend in California, someone carrying their room phone around with them because their boyfriend was supposed to call them four hours ago and he must be dead.
Sure, we were 18. We were living on our own for the first time. We were in relationships with the first boys we ever kissed. Shit is bound to happen. My own freshmen long distance relationship fell apart before October.
I like to think that a lot has changed in 8 years. Maturity, self control, smart decision making, knowing what’s important: all of these things should have grown exponentially in these early 20s years.
But who knows. I have a couple girlfriends in long distance relationships now; Chicago/London and Chicago/Spain. Which sounds a hell of a lot more challenging than Chicago/NYC. Technology makes it easy to communicate constantly with anyone willing.
It’s funny and fitting that most of the pictures from this past week with PT are of food. We had a seriously delicious lunch at Irazu – the site for many past PT/Allyson meals. We made lots of veggie pasta. And tuna helper.
Officially single but fielding/making phone calls and texts and video chats and gchats galore, who knows what the right answer is. If it’s meant to be it will happen. If it isn’t it won’t.
In the mean time I’m going to work like a crazy person. I’ve got all this room and time now magically. Work, work, work.











































