The Ties That Bind Us — Part 2

August 25, 2023

The door creaks open. My luggage rolls in. My fingers tingle from excitement and my heartbeat quickens with anticipation. “She’s here!” A voice echoes through the kitchen, followed by quickened footsteps. My friend, my roommate, runs up and wraps her arms around me. “You’re here!” I hear two other voices as they pull me into a group hug.

I look around the house. A year ago, I was alone in my studio apartment, sitting on the floor, feeling the weight of solitude. Now, I’m here picking out posters and planning how to arrange furniture with the people who made my first year worthwhile.

The walls may be bare now, but they are filled with the promise of memories yet to come.

September 8, 2023

Chaos reigns supreme as we whirl around in a frenzy of chores. The rhythm of ABBA’s greatest hits plays in the background, along with our hums and the sounds of chopping avocados and opening packets of frozen snacks. I never thought that cleaning the house, cooking, or any other mundane task would ever be so fun. But I was proven wrong. Because here I am, laughing with my roommates, while we prepare for our housewarming party.

February 10, 2024

Life in our shared home flows like a gentle river, each day blending seamlessly into the next. Cooking meals in the kitchen together while singing out loud, sharing stories from our day over dinner, and spending time in silence together as we scroll through our phones – all have become an integral part of my daily life.

There’s comfort in the knowledge that at any moment, a knock on the door could signal a surprise visit, a chance to share a homemade treat, or showcase a new outfit. I respond by randomly knocking on their door, cracking a dumb joke, followed by a quick little dance before I leave. Our interactions are a kaleidoscope of emotions. We bicker. We laugh. We cry. We do it all, knowing that beneath it all lies a deep well of love and understanding.

In this house filled with laughter and love, I have found sisters in the truest sense of the word. No longer do I feel the pang of loneliness that once plagued me as an only child. I never feel alone.

April 17, 2024

While cleaning the room today, I noticed a fallen poster lying abandoned on the floor, its colors slightly dimmed and edges curling. With a heavy heart and a lump in my throat, I pause, considering whether to put it back or leave it be. A wave of melancholy washes over me. The poster, once a symbol of our shared space, now feels insignificant against the backdrop of our impending departure. I know I should pick it up, dust it off, and return it to its rightful place on the wall. But the thought of doing so feels like a cruel mockery of the inevitable.

And so, with a resigned sigh, I leave it where it lies, witnessing the passage of time and the transience of this experience.

Last entry for a while

As the days blur together, the looming thought of our separation casts a shadow over every moment. Thoughts of packing boxes and tearful goodbyes linger like ghosts in the corner of my mind, haunting me with their inevitability.

I find myself avoiding the empty pages of my journal, avoiding the harsh reality of the final page. The thought of saying goodbye, or of returning to the cold embrace of solitude that greeted me on that first day two years ago, sends shivers down my spine.

Amidst this suffocating weight of sadness, there remains a glimmer of gratitude. Gratitude for the laughter that once filled these walls, for the warmth of friendship, and for the memories we carved into the very walls of our shared home.

As the days slip through my fingers like sand, I hold onto the hope that the ties that bind us will endure, anchoring me to the memories of a home that once was.