ava told me today that her dad will be flying to NY to help her move her things to MI. it was supposed to be just the two of us. i’m not sure why i’m even involved anymore. i know it’s literally not about me but it did hurt. i had this image in my head of the two of us on this road trip, and it was going to be the perfect penultimate chapter, like a coming of age novel except we’re 26. the early start, the endless hours in the car, the music blasting, windows down; the rest stops and gas station snacks; pulling over to take pictures as the sun set—i was sure there was going to be a sunset—before continuing into the whispering dark where things would get delirious and confessional. gone now. now, i face a 12 hour road trip with her and a man i don’t really know, who won’t like our music or our frequent stopping. i guess it’s my fault for preemptively painting it all nostalgia-gold.