The End.

Going to bed tonight will be weird. I'll lay my head on the pillow and nestle under the blanket like always but when I wake up, my flat, for all intents and purposes, will be empty. There's no chance of running into someone when I'm making my morning toast or if having someone to talk to over lunch. No meetings in the hallway to plan our night or wine time and storytelling in the kitchen. There won't be people over and we won't stay up until obscene hours of the night watching old, British TV shows. While everyone else can seek solace in the fact that they'll be back and up to their old shenanigans in a few weeks, I hold on to every moment knowing that this is it for me. Tonight's fried chicken is my last Mile End fried chicken. No more Drapers. No more flatmates, who I've come to know and love.

Everyone but J and I it would seem, leave tomorrow or early Sunday morning and will spend tomorrow packing. I would rather have left when everyone else did, I think. Being alone these last few days is going to make me sad. Still, it can't be sadder than closing my door tonight, knowing that this will be the last time I fall asleep in the company of these great people. Knowing that the people just two steps across the hall will be an almost unbelievable 5000+ miles in a few days. Knowing that there is always that possibility that we'll never be able to see each other again.

As I try to sleep tonight, I'll try to remember what it is that Lewis Carroll once said: "There are better things ahead than any we leave behind." Mr. Carroll, I'm putting my faith with you on this one. Don't let me down.