home is always bound up in the comfort and frustrations of routine, and the past that bleeds into the present. i have mixed feelings about being home - it means not tackling work; indulging in nostalgia; realizing that some friends have changed a lot, but perhaps these changes aren't so unexpected; seeing my sister go through the frustrations of
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you were one of few people (actually, possibly the only person, come to it) that i was truly happy to see and catch up with. i hope when IB parties fall by the wayside, we'll remember to remind ourselves that each other exists.
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