Squandrous

Two more weeks.

It’s hard moving to a new city and making friends. I mean, not the kind of friends that you hang out with at happy hour or grab coffee with from time to time — I mean the kind of friends that know you inside and out, the kind of friends with whom you share secrets while lying on the grass on the waterfront in the rain at 2am.

Karen is one of those friends. She helps me feel settled here.

I met Karen on my birthday while waiting in line to get my tickets for the Mos Def concert. At first, our contact was sporadic, apprehensive. Within a few weeks, I had begun seeing her several times a week. We were both addicted to Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream, both loved visiting Bed, Bath & Beyond, and both listened to Sufjan Stevens when we were sad. I learned her secrets, she learned mine. In less than two months, she had become the friend I was looking for, the friend I needed in this strange town.

Now, she’s leaving.

I had dinner with Karen last night where I learned that she had been offered a job at a firm in Denver. If I were to walk in a straight line, Denver is still 1,493 miles away from DC. That’s far.

I should have seen this coming. She had, after all, just finished her senior year and was actively looking for a job. I just didn’t expect that she’d find that job in Denver. She leaves to go back to her parents’ place in Florida in two weeks, and heads out to Colorado two weeks after that.

She’s leaving in two weeks. I’m happy for her, I really am. But I’m also sad that she’s leaving. I’m feeling very conflicted right now.

Two weeks. Two weeks until one of my new best friends runs away, and it feels like I have to start all over again in this often-cold and lonely city.

I don’t know how to feel right now.