earlier today i dropped my best friend off at the train station after going to a concert together the night before and i thought, i'm getting better at goodbyes. but my heart lurched all of a sudden and i felt the familiar emptiness in my chest after a particularly happy moment in my life and thought again, maybe i am just finding new ways to deal with goodbyes, maybe i'll never be good at them. 

i don't even know where to begin with how deeply this book resonated with me. it's like. this is life i would have lived if i wasn't a second-gen immigrant without family that had put down roots in the us.

how do i even put this. this was such a weird beautiful journey of sneha fucking up and fixing things constantly and feeling generally horrible and encountering such real mortal horrors of being a twenty something and trying to make sense of all this shit around her. there are so many points where she feels so so horribly alone and empty only to be told, to be shown, again and again, by her parents, her best friends: you are loved, you are loved, you are loved. we'll help you clean your dirty ass apartment, let's meet up for taco tuesday, you are right to feel horrible when remembering people that have hurt you, there is a room ready and waiting for you should you ever want it. 

when i dropped this friend off, i was so overwhelmed by the aloneness of it all, how many times do i have to go through this, what if i die tomorrow and i don't get anymore, am i allowed to be this greedy in the first place? but i realize, as i do in these moments, lest i forget, that i will always have a room ready and waiting for me whether or not i feel like i deserve it.