I'm in a bedroom. It's very familiar, but I feel a weird disconnect from it as well. The last time I was in this bedroom was four years ago. I was a scared, relatively spineless hopeless romantic, spooning with a girl who wasn't going to be my girlfriend for the last time before she left for college. That moment is still vivid in my mind, as is most of the brief time I spent with her, for reasons that are only clear to me now. At the time, the fact that she was leaving was the end of my world.
It has been a long, long time since then, both in years and otherwise. This room takes me back to that last day, as I haven't seen it since, but the sensation isn't as odd or nostalgic as I might have guessed. It's as if I've stepped back in time, to that last day, but as my current self, rather than the 19-year old from years past, and I can't tell if I've time-traveled as an observer or a participant. I'm in a museum, of sorts, looking at a moment from my past through one of those glass windows built into the wall. I can't help but compare my current mindset to that which I possessed the last time I was here. The differences are immense and immeasurable.
I'm about to get into that bed, four years wiser, with a whole lot of perspective, a stomach full of Cosmo, and a new friend. I'm very curious what emotions, if any, will result from this.
-Seth
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