digital pen, digital paper.

Articles of Confession

Last Sunday evening, while tending to some laundry and other errands about the house, I could hear my roommate opening and closing the front door every few minutes. A clear indicator of moving items into his car. I looked for him as I moved through the house, but we never crossed paths. This had sort of become the norm since his girlfriend “moved in.” I knew they were around, but they would typically stick to his room and remain unseen. Eventually, after hearing the door close a final time, I peeked out the window. They were standing in the driveway and kissing before getting in separate cars and pulling away from the house (never mentioning that they were leaving). This would be the first time he had used his car in several weeks. They would always take her car. Always together. Curiously, not this time.

So I shrugged my shoulders and settled in front of the television. Twenty minutes or so passed when my roommate returned having forgotten his xbox. I asked what was up and he told me he was hanging out at a friend’s. He left again, this time saying goodbye.

He then never returned. I have not seen him since and it has been a week. On Thursday, I poked my head in his room. I knew he was looking to move out soon, so I figured it was maybe all part of his plan for the moving process, though he never really said anything of it. His room, however, was as messy as ever, but his computer was gone. He knew he would be gone long enough to take the essential. That’s essential, singular. What else is needed when you hibernate and live through the internet.

I call him. Ask if he is alive. Ask how he’s been doing and what’s up. He claims to be really busy with his girlfriend’s class project, and also his work has been keeping him busy as well. He sounds a little exhausted, but that has been typical since going out with this girl. She keeps him up late into the night. World of Warcrafting.

He doesn’t say much as to where he’s been or when he’ll be back, and I’m not one to pry.

I spent a good portion of yesterday knocking back beers from Orlando Brewing Co., and apparently, while being generally unproductive, my roommate was doing the opposite and packed all his shit and left. I knew he was moving out at the end of this month, but he never mentioned a day, and his room was still an explosion of clothes and other random crap when I last saw it on Thursday, so I didn’t really see it coming.

Needless to say, I’m saddened by our breakdown in communication. But I suppose it makes no difference, now. Afterall, now I live alone.