phoenix {rising}
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Really, Really Gone. Honestly.
<<2003-03-08 - 4:18 p.m.>>

So I'm totally out of the old room. I actually slept there last night, while packing it up conclusively, basically an extended nap on a sheetless mattress covered by an extremely voluminous bathrobe. Predictably, there was a fire alarm. Despite the abrasive scream of the alarm, the Dread Ex-Roommate was balled defiantly across the end of her mattressless bedframe when I left the room for perfunctory evacuation and remained that way for the duration of the alarm lest she be inadvertently exposed to interaction with the other sleepy, shivering disheveled evacuees.

One of my old house advisors is evidently extremely concerned about the Dread Ex-Roommate. The Dread Ex-Roommate has stopped going to classes. The Dread Ex-Roommate does not answer emails from concerned professors or administrators or house advisors. The Dread Ex-Roommate, it would seem, is busily having herself a big old breakdown.

And when I went back into the Old Room, I wanted to take a minute to stop and look at the Dread Ex-Roommate. I wanted to stand there and look at her and try to understand that really, she must be sad, really, there must be a hideous flailing void inside her, really, she must be just trying to keep afloat. I wanted to stand there until I could find compassion for her. But the thing is, you can never tell when she's really asleep and when she's just pretending. So I passed by with little more than a glance. I closed the connecting door. I locked it.

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