the tiny dorm room that ksenia and i shared last year was home. our beds were never made, it seemed like our bright red rug was always soaked in vodka, and the people above us never failed on having obnoxiously loud sex during late study nights.
so many nights, when i would come home drunk and heart broken, i would come back to that room and i knew everything would be okay.
that room saved me.
i never took that room for granted and i always knew it wouldn’t last forever. i’ll always miss that room.