picture this: you move in w your best friends (only slightly wary that it’ll make or break the friendship). you set up a fairly consistent meal rotation system for weekly dinners & dismantle any unrealistic expectations for communal living (there’s only one bathroom, after all). you don’t know how it’ll go. you pass the time w mario kart, start picking up each other’s mannerisms & idioms, read separate books in a shared space, hype up each other’s creative goals & pursuits (bc we’re surely all going to be rich some day). you workout together, run errands together, play games & sports together, process the day together, realize that everything is actually more fun, together. you don’t fight once. you give up trivial things like fridge space & privacy in lieu of husky fur & core memories & suddenly you realize you’re a true family unit. you don’t know how it happened. you realize living together was the best decision you could’ve made, & as you reflect together in a toyota highlander under the sunset of the final day you laugh while you cry bc it seems ridiculous & unfair that life would no longer consist of sharing a mango after dinner or lining up four cars in the driveway each night based on everyone’s morning schedules. you don’t want it to end. saying goodbye feels like losing a limb or an unrequited breakup & the drama of it all draws more tears & more laughs. you acknowledge that it’s a rare gift to share a space & experience such effortless compatibility. & while you can’t fully put it into words, you decide that maybe happiness really is as simple as a pack howl (ft. 5 humans & 2 huskies) & coming home to the people who would gladly sacrifice their space so you can take up a little more.