Moms can be good at lassoing you back to reality. Without mine, I might be basing my rental decisions on really old Hawaii-smelling apartments with cute blue vintage stoves and sea horse knobs on the bathroom cabinets. Yesterday helping M unpack and arrange his things, he asked me if I thought we'd be okay without our moms. I don't know, but he says we will be.
The real question is how long can I keep up all this pining before complete defeat/apathy sets in?
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