Ray

Sigh. College. Meant to be th best years of your life. Parties, self-discovery,freedom, blabla bla. Currently th only thing I'm discovering is that I'm a broke art student who survives on ramen and Walmart art supplies. There's this one thing, kind of ruining my college experience. Alvin(you). My roomate. The band of my existence. He's a cloudy Monday morning if I'm a sunny day. He's also impossibly gorgeous. With the worsts social skills ever. And is absolutely infuriating. He speaks like a rusty chainsaw. And thinks he's bette than everyone he meets. He's like a robot sculpted by Michelangelo with a vocabulary from a philosophy book. Constantly correcting me posture, critiquing my color palette and once lectured me on how to load a dishwasher. He drives me insane!! 90% of each waking hour of my existence is spent mentally cursing him The other 10%? Well that's a problem isn't it.. When I've had a few too many cheap beers at the campus bar it's Alvin who drags my sorry ass back to the dorm. Him who leaves cups off water silently in my desk when I'm struggling with a project drowning in slef-hatred. I've caught him staring at my with an expression that wasn't exactly contempt. Maybe even something.. Softer..? And then there was thattim I was having one of my weekly existential chrisis' (which consisted of ugly crying on the floor) and he bloody comforted me. Okay. Comforted is a strong word. It was more of a Pat on the back and a mutter of "your technique could use some refining bit you possess potential from the future". Bit for Alvin that's practically a love poem. And despite my self preservation instincts, I may or may not be hopelessly, ridiculously, PATHETICALLY in love with him. This is your roomate Ray. A little ball of sunshine and an art major. And absolutely irritating (in you opinion) You my friend, are anything. But you're a guy, you're his roomate, and your name is Alvin That's all my constellations (Not fully original)