Another picture-less comic about serious stuff.
P.S. Chuck, I couldn't do this without you. Thank you for being amazing.
And more memories:
This weekend, in the magical Christmas house that my mom and my sister created, I experienced some really intense nostalgia. Memories haven't come flooding back to me like that in a really really really long time. The house my mom lives in is the house we grew up in, she's lived there for 20 years now. It's changed a lot but so much is still the same.
These 3 particular memories are:
top: there was this rusty pipe sticking out of a cement block near our driveway, and my sister and I would always put stuff in it, like rocks and grass and water and pinecones
middle: I have a really distinct memory of playing in our dirt driveway, poking at anthills with a stick, while the sun was setting, in the summertime
bottom: I once snuck out of my bedroom window at night. Looking at our house from that angle made it suddenly feel like a stranger's house. I felt really alone and separate from it.
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