My roommate is moving out at the end of this month and it's beginning to sink in. We moved to New York together 3 years ago to this very apartment. It's unheard of in New-York-time (a New York Minute? idk). I feel like I've lived through "Just Kids" in these past 3 years, but a more boring version. Replace all the drug use and hanging out at the Chelsea Hotel with falafel eating and lying in our respective bedrooms.
All this change got me cruising down memory-lane, by way of the iPhoto highway. The hairstyles! The birthdays! The travels! The jobs!
"Hipster Camping" before my furniture arrived- June 1 2011
Eric sitting outside the realty office the day he moved in- June 4 2011
Brunette! Glasses! Long hair! I still have that checked shirt though.
Am I getting emotional about this? A little bit? My favorite Eric-roommate memories are probably asking him to go on a walk with me at 10 pm on a weeknight and he'd always say "sure." And the fact that he let me be me in all my weirdness without a hint of judgement. And that he watches X-Files with me sometimes and doesn't get annoyed when I talk over it. Oof I have a lump in my throat. The real kicker is, his initials are ERA <3