The Time Machine.

Two years ago, I drunkenly stumbled into Savannah’s garage. Alone, sad, and cold, I had wandered off from the small party going on inside. Once inside the garage I fumbled my way to find the light switch and finally succeeded. The light hummed softly, irritating my soon-to-be headache. The garage sat still and empty as I peered around the small space. And that’s when I saw it. A wooden box. It stood about 7 feet tall and barely 4 feet wide. The light colored wood panels glowed in the fluorescent light. A small door sat in the middle of the box, centered with a glass panel. I peered through the glass, the inside was empty except for a wooden bench against the backside of the space.

I grazed the front panel and found a small handle. Prying it open, the warm smell of fresh wood wafted out of the door and I stepped inside. Quietly, I closed the door behind me and sat on the bench.


After soaking up my moments of pure joy of laughter and squealing, I finally emerged and returned to the party boasting victoriously about my find and my travel through time. Granted, my Time Machine is actually a free standing sauna, but to me it didn’t matter. It was an escape and I had found it and it was forever mine.

Last night, Savannah and Nadia threw a party with their other roommates. Last night, I made out with a guy in the Time Machine. Last night, we went back to see the dinosaurs and Jesus (yes, Jesus). Last night, I got to escape again and it was great.

The Time Machine and recent life experiences have allowed me to feel reflective of life and to be surprisingly wise. I say this, because recently I have observed once-relatable issues in my friends that I have now put far, far behind me. Here are their stories.


Esme, my sassy friend has a Dexter in her life. His name is Daniel and he dated Esme briefly a few years ago. Daniel and Esme have a “deeper connection” and are caught in a tragic, torturous debacle of love, dishonesty, and friendship. Daniel has a girlfriend that is not Esme, but he loves Esme and she loves him. They kissed two nights ago and he’s butt hurt because she is talking to another guy. The whole situation makes me want to roll my eyes and shake her. If he would do that to his girlfriend, he would do that to you too. He clearly isn’t honest, is confused, and wants to have his cake and eat it too. GET OUT NOW. But she won’t. She will never be able to rid herself of Daniel. I use to understand that feeling. You feel like you JUST. CAN’T. imagine life without the other one in it. Here’s what I know now, no matter what happens, the sun will still come up in the morning. Your favorite radio host will still be there on your morning commute. The seasons will still change. The world will not stop and life will still go on. 


Cameron is the guy who I made out with in the Time Machine. He got out of a 3 year relationship 3 days ago. He’s confused, lonely, and is wallowing in the grief that comes with the end of a relationship. “Thanks for showing me your Time Machine,” he cooed as we flirtatious cuddled up to chat inside our wooden box from heaven. “This is really good for me, it’s going to help a lot. But oh God it will be so bad when she hears about this, she thinks you’re so pretty so that won’t help”. Wait, what? “Um, there’s no reason to tell her about this unless you two are getting back together,” I spoke probably too boldly. “Do you want to see her hurt?” he assured me he didn’t and that he wasn’t just on “a break”. Here’s what I know now, when you’re done, be done. Walk away, move forward, move on if need be. This is not The Notebook and you are neither Ryan Gosling nor Rachel McAdams. A tragic romance is not cute or romantic. At all. 


My good friend who goes to a different university, Shannon was dumped 2 months ago. “He said there were 3 reasons,” she explained over Facebook chat.

  1. He wants someone to like me as much as a like him
  2. He doesn’t see himself marrying me
  3. He doesn’t think he’ll ever fall in love with me

Ok, so he just validated that he’s an asshole who’s way too serious about not being serious. Shannon didn’t want to marry him, or if she did she definitely wasn’t expressing that because we are TOO FUCKING YOUNG for that shit. But whatever, he made a call, let’s move on right? Wrong. “Don’t talk to him anymore,” I advised her. “Just come to Hipsterville and let’s go out and have fun being single!”. “Oh he definitely still talks to me. It’s just so impossible to cut him out,” she complained. Here’s what I know now, anyone who you have to cut out of your life handed you the fucking scissors. Cut that shit, toss the scissors back to them for the next girl that comes along, and either let go, or be dragged. 

And I know all of these crucially important, world altering life lessons because of a shitty few months and because of The Time Machine.

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