The thing about promises made under stars is that they feel invincible in the moment. Like the universe itself is witnessing your commitment, sealing it into something permanent.
But promises don't account for exhaustion. For the slow erosion of connection when you're living separate lives in separate worlds.
I'm halfway through my sophomore year at RISD when I realize we're drowning.
It starts small. Missed FaceTime calls because I'm in the studio and lose track of time. Him falling asleep before I finish my critique sessions. Time zones that aren't actually different but feel like they are because our schedules never align.
"Hey, sorry, can we talk later?" becomes our most frequent exchange.
Later turns into tomorrow. Tomorrow turns into this weekend. This weekend turns into when yo
