#What is Automated Machine Learning? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisismenow3 · 8 months ago

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I feel like this is missing the forest for the trees. You keep decrying “virtue” when art that is made in a certain way is often different categorically from art that is made with other tools. People are getting caught up in the metaphors here so let me try my best; this ain’t “digital music” vs trained musicians using analogue instruments, this is a painting of food vs a website for a restaurant. The way you create something often separates it categorically within artistic persuits not just from analysis but from experience.

Human history can be simplified to be just us “finding the easier way with better and better tools” but that reaches oversimplification here cause that has more to do with tech broadly, not with art or politics/culture I’d argue. With music people ain’t just reacting to the sound, we are always conscious of many layers of context. That’s true of all art. Knowing someone wrote their own lyrics can enhance a song for people, knowing that the sounds were created using live instruments can help a listener feel the feeling they want from the sound better because their ideas of what music is come from an idea that it is “primal.” People ain’t wrong to say they prefer someone who’s more than just a parrot for the words, especially with genres where half the point is this idea. And live recordings exist to help further a “primal” feeling for people who prefer their music mostly analogue.

But in all these analogies the common thread ain’t “human uses tool” it’s “human uses tool but in a way that has to have some work to it because that work is a prerequisite for it to be the art we agree meets this definition.” A person dancing, however subjectively good or bad, is very different than a person rendering a 3D subject doing the same dance. We can all argue over which we like better but both are a kind of art.

‘machine learning art’ is a person asking Siri to render a 3D model dancing for them. That ain’t art, that’s fundamentally different than the digital counterpart in the dance example because at a certain point sufficiently advanced tools change the category of art and machine learning art is sophisticated enough it’s essentially just making a DJ request to the universe. There can be uses for people obviously, but those uses don’t change the fundamental nature of the thing. Not everyone can draw or play guitar or sing well or dance well or take a sample and change it enough to meet a know it when you hear it level of effort be their own, and all of that can be deemed still whack by someone with different tastes. Machine learning art is actually not art because it is both theft and even in hypotheticals where it’s fed all things given willingly the lack of anything other than guidelines means no one created it, it’s shapes in the cloud that haven’t been photographed or painted yet.

Your turning on a light analogy worked perfect except for where you landed with it. When we say we turn on a light we don’t think about how this is shorthand for “I manipulated one switch that only helps bring light because of work someone else did installing the wiring and etc.” But turning on a light is using FL studio to make an instrumental, machine learning art is a CEO giving parameters to RandD about making a product they envision but don’t have the skills to tackle even a piece of the creation on their own.

My god my girlies

MY GIRLIES. I am still crying, I am still crying about this. Every day I cry about this.

You bitched so hard about being forced to read 1984 in school when it’s so problematic (tm)

Maybe you should have actually paid attention when you read it

Because all these AI fics

You are LITERALLY MAKING THE GARBAGE NOVELS FROM 1984 that are written by machines

You have literally recreated the worthless soulless machine-made books

Literally,

Literally. Every once in a while it hits me in a fresh wave of disbelief and anger. You have literally created the dystopian book from the dystopian story about why dystopia is bad, and you are passing it around like it’s this amazing thing. I’m crying, I’m crying.

#Machine learning #machine learning stealing art #Machine learning art ain’t art #The narrative of work as pejorative when it comes to art is a too far pendulum swing #It’s trying to correct for things like using digital drawing interface short cuts and digital music producing being called not art #When in reality these things do change the nature of the art #But the skill involved mediates this #Good illustrators can partially save their hands with the brushes and selection tools #And great producers are doing less than artists who had to also manage physical instruments but this is mitigated by emphasis on lyrics #Or knowing how to take the preset sounds and toggle them almost like you would with physical extra attachments to an instrument #or people recognize something sounds good but it can’t be “good music” to then because the context is all wrong to what makes good music fo #Them which involves a harder messier kind of creation #Use machine learning to automate the limited work it is meant for #It can only hurt if we treat the visuals and melodies it spits out as art #From a jobs perspective and a cultural perspective

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meelsport · 5 months ago

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Exploring the Benefits of AI SEO Tools for Your Website

AI SEO tools are transforming the way we approach search engine optimization. In today’s fast-paced digital world, leveraging AI SEO tools can give your website a significant edge over the competition. These advanced tools use artificial intelligence to enhance various aspects of SEO, making it easier for your content to rank higher on search engine results pages (SERPs). Let’s dive into how AI…

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bornt-urnge · 1 year ago

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⚠️ Fandom is Moving Forward with Generative AI ⚠️

As of December 15, Fandom has announced their plans to continue using AI to "enhance" their articles.

In short, they claim to have primarily used AI to

Scan images for "appropriateness" (be that NSFW content or just fitting in with the theme of the show), which still involves scraping tons of images and comparing them to a potentially unethically sourced database. As with all machine learning using images, it is still wildly inaccurate.

Optimizing edits - something they admit is still severely lacking because it can't read tables or variants on simple things like "birthday"

Optimizing SEO - this is clearly what they care most about, since Google likes the "Quick Answers" - as shitty as they were - this means they can continue to dominate the search results and gain more ad revenue.

This is a good time to remember that Fandom is a for-profit company with inverstors, which means their end goal is always to make the most money possible. They don't care about "The Fans" (despite the lip service), and they don't care about the authenticity of user-generated content if they can figure out how to automate the process.

STOP USING FANDOM.

Alternatives/Workarounds:

Indie Wiki Buddy is an extension that will redirect you to non-Fandom versions of wikis if it's in their database.

BreezeWiki displays all Fandom wikis in a clean, ad-free format with just the article content (no links to their forums, autoplay videos, etc)

If you must use Fandom, install UBlock Origin. It's available on all desktop browsers and Firefox Mobile. Hit them where it hurts. And encourage the wiki teams to leave Fandom if they can.

Also, be sure to support independent wikis! You can disable adblockers while on their sites, as they usually have much less obtrusive ads which directly fund server maintenance rather than CEO salaries. Change links on your posts/pages to direct to non-Fandom Wikis (even wiki.gg is better).

Keep information free from corporatization.

#Fandom #Wikis #Anti-ai #fuck ai everything #anti capitalism #anti corporations

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garbage-empress · 6 months ago

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Know I am a broken record with this but the widespread use of AI answers in search results along with AI generated SEO spam is one of the biggest threats to a human knowledge repository in history.

"AI" (actually language learning models) are designed to mimick human language so it "looks" correct but they have essentially no ability to fact check or think critically. They don't live in the real world with us they're algorithms hanging out in Plato's Cave.

The hype machine surrounding them paired with the cultural tendency to assume that computers are infallible and neutral has caused everyone to act like they're fact calculators. They are not, they're automated bullshitters trying to spit out their best approximation of what they assume you're expecting as an answer not what the answer actually is. They're less like a fact calculator, and more like a fact daydreaming kid in math class blurting out the first answer they think of.

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dumbdiscodragon · 11 months ago

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Will this technically work? Yes. Could it go for years without causing issues? Of course. But I -definitely- wouldn't call this a careful install. Junction boxes are code (at least they are where I live) for a reason (helps protect from animals chewing the wires, helps prevent fires from catching in the case of a short). ideally the tape should go up to and around the caps, and they should be taped separately (and then maybe you can tape them together to hold em in place if you want)... And most concerning to me, they cut the ground???? Which is the most infuriating to me because you don't even need tape and caps for ground wire you can just hand twist them together and that's fine. But they cut it!! TT^TT

And all this in the wall behind a kitchen appliance where critters and moisture like to hang out. IMO it's a fire hazard.

Who wants to see how the previous owners of my house plugged in the microwave

#I learned about residential electrical while I was getting my automation/manufacturing certificate #I'm not an electrician-electrician but I have a decent grasp on the basics of it #I did have to work with electrical a lot at my old job as well #Stuff that might be fine with lower power levels or inside of a small machine (like just throwing some caps on there and calling it a day)#isn't necessarily the same with larger appliances or inside a wall where it has to sit exposed to god-knows-what undisturbed for years #I personally don't like to use caps without taping that shit up but IDK if it's completely necessary?#It makes me feel better tho

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headspace-hotel · 4 months ago

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I'm trying to read about ecological succession in desert ecosystems and its incredibly annoying because most of the studies define "succession" as "how does the vegetation cover increase after we planted a forest on top of it"

this got me scampering off on a tangent about desertification, which led me to a lot of papers talking about how there is no coherent definition of what desertification even is ("What is desertification? We can't even agree and we're the authors of this paper!") and then continuing to talk about how it's important to reverse desertification despite the lack of clarity on whether this is a good idea.

It's really striking how so many papers treat deserts like they aren't even ecosystems in their own right, just land that isn't being as productive as it "should" be.

Then there's this paper which is a quintessential example of "angry scientists who are DONE with your shit" It seems to be machine translated a la Google Translate-esque automation, but it's good and the pictures speak for themselves. basically there was a large scale effort to "reverse deforestation" in the Gobi Desert by planting shrubs, and this was subsidized by policies meant to promote "greening" for broad scale environmental improvement. Here's the summary of how that backfired

According to our survey, personnel who specifically plant trees and engage in afforestation are businessmen, farmers, or others, with most of them being businessmen from abroad, and only a few being local people. All the personnel are more concerned about the subsidies than greening and planting trees itself. According to the policy, they will receive majority of the subsidy if the planted trees live for three years, irrespective of whether the trees survive after that. Therefore, to guarantee the survival of the planted trees for three years, they even use water tankers to carry water to the trees from a great distance. However, after three years, the people stop watering the trees planted in the Gobi region, thereby leading to the death of trees after a few years as they cannot survive only on natural precipitation and groundwater. In pursuit of maximum profits, these businessmen will pursue larger areas for planting trees, which will cause further damage to the ecological environment in the Gobi region

What else is there to say

furthermore, the planting disturbed the natural soil layers and disrupted the "black vegetation" (I'm guessing this is translated from a term that refers to the gravel layer in combination with the biocrusts holding it in place- I want to learn more about biocrusts they're so cool) which caused dust and sand underneath to become airborne.

I found many more papers that are disappointingly uncritical of the afforestation in deserts thing even though they try to take an ecological outlook, like this one, which acknowledges it takes extensive inputs from other places to maintain the trees (if you have to add 5% wood chips to the sand to improve it, wouldn't that necessity significantly offset the increase in tree biomass and the benefit in increase productivity on site, since the wood chips come from trees???) and that past efforts to plant forests on desert lands have gone poorly.

From multiple papers I'm starting to piece together why there has been so much data tentatively suggesting success in desert afforestation even though it seems to not do much good in the long term: the young trees can sometimes draw sufficient water from underground when they're little, but actually the region is fundamentally incapable of supporting the water requirements of a more mature tree. So the trees grow roots down into the deep soil layers, suck the deep soil layers dry, and die, leaving the land drier than it was to begin with.

I'm no expert but it seems to me like maybe we should study the desert ecosystems in depth before trying to change them...

#ecology #plants #deserts #the ways of the plants #afforestation

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copperbadge · 1 year ago

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I remember you've posted about making your own bread before, and basically want to know what your gut reaction to the idea of this thing is.

[ID: An image of a Cuisinart bread machine box, displaying a "compact automatic bread maker", full size results with compact footprint! The machine is shiny metal, square, and has a loaf of bread peeping out the window in the top.]

Oh, I learned to make bread with one of these things! They were HUGELY popular in California in the 90s so I made bread in one about once a week for most of my teen years, and I inherited the family's machine when I got my first apartment in college. I owned a bread machine of one kind or another until I think probably around 2012, well after I started making loaves by hand. They're great for people who don't want to take the considerable time needed to learn to make bread by hand, for people who don't have a mixer that will knead dough or can't knead by hand, or for people who want fresh bread but a little more automated.

Even now I use my KitchenAid mixer for kneading pretty much any dough I make that isn't foccacia or pizza dough. It's not even that I can't knead dough or don't have the time, it's that I just straight up don't want to, I don't like the feeling of dough stuck to my hands or the floury mess it makes on the counter.

I'm in support of the Bread Machine; yes it is a unitasker and yes it does not produce bread as nice as handmade bread, generally, but it's a good first step for beginners and a great way to control the ingredients in your bread without having to babysit it extensively. So I guess my gut reaction is nostalgia mixed with affection -- it's a tool I don't need anymore, but it was a great tool when I did need it.

#food #sam cooks #bread #fredthebadger

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dhirajmarketresearch · 15 days ago

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#Automated Machine Learning Market #Automated Machine Learning Market Share #Automated Machine Learning Market Size #Automated Machine Learning Market Research #Automated Machine Learning Industry #What is Automated Machine Learning?

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daisynik7 · 2 years ago

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Give You Blue

Chapter 1: How It Ends

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: explicit sexual content/smut (brief flashback), language, angst, a breakup

Word Count: ~3.2k

Next Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: Reiner, your best friend since childhood and your high school sweetheart, breaks up with you the night before the new semester begins. With his car packed with both your belongings, the hour long drive back to campus the next day offers some clarity. Author's Notes: Excited to be writing a new series! I hope you all enjoy it. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate. Thank you so much!

“I think we should break-up.”

It’s the last day of summer vacation, the night before you and Reiner head back to Stohess University for the start of a new schoolyear. You’ve been at his place all day, helping him pack his car, which is already halfway full of your own belongings. With the door to his bedroom wide open, you can hear his mom humming a familiar tune downstairs as she puts away the leftovers from tonight’s dinner. Her signature meatloaf and mashed potatoes, a favorite of yours and Reiner’s. It’s been this way since you were ten years old, when the two of you finally started eating real food instead of only candy, pizza rolls, and chicken nuggets.

The words come out of his mouth low and monotone, an automated machine void of any emotions. That’s why you’re convinced it’s in your imagination, until he speaks again. “Coco, did you hear me?”

Coco. It’s the silly nickname he’s had for you since you were five, the first time you ever met on the school playground. You were in the same kindergarten class, but Reiner could not, for the life of him, remember your name for two whole weeks. What he does remember is you eating a homemade coconut macaroon every first recess of the day. And like a typically five-year-old boy, he picked on you for it, calling you Coconut even after he learned your name. Even after you became the best of friends. Eventually, it became Coco for short, and from there, it just stuck. You’re not sure if you ever liked it; maybe you only did because it was him calling you that. One of the many special secrets shared between you two throughout the years.

You turn towards him, a pair of his socks in hand, ready to roll and toss into his half empty luggage, unfazed. “Huh?” You’re prepared to hear him say something else, anything else.

He swallows hard, a serious expression on his face, glancing at his feet. “I think we should break-up.”

It takes you a good minute to process it. Three minutes, if you’re being completely honest. And he doesn’t rush you this time for a response, seeing you stare back at him, a deer in headlights, seconds before getting hit and crushed under the weight of a semi-truck. Because that’s how it feels when your boyfriend of four years and your best friend of even longer tells you that he thinks the two of you should break-up.

You’re surprised at how long it takes for the tears to stream down your face. Everyone knows, Reiner included, how much of a sap you are. You cry easily over the most insignificant things – a car commercial, people playing with puppies, a sad scene in a movie. But this – this absolutely warrants all the tears you’ve cried over stupid shit like that.

Reiner quickly closes the door and wraps his arms around you, lips pressed to your forehead. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His facial hair brushes against you, a sensation you’ve always found comforting. He was a late-bloomer, incapable of growing that rugged look all throughout high school. It was really only last year when he needed to pay more attention to it; grooming became part of his regular routine. Now, it’s harsh and coarse against smooth skin, an itch you want to scratch but can’t. Somehow, you keep your volume to a minimum, aware that Mrs. Braun is downstairs, blissfully ignorant to what’s happening above her. Through quiet, choked sobs, you ask, “Why?”

He sighs, a pained expression on his face now; he’s always hated seeing you cry. How much worse does he feel knowing he’s the cause of it? Leading you to the edge of the bed, he sits, and you follow. With your hand in his, he starts explaining himself. “We’ve been inseparable for so long; I just think we need to take some time to figure ourselves out. As individuals.” He’s practiced this before, you can tell. He usually sputters when he’s put on the spot. Not this time. He’s been thinking about this for a while, you realize, and it breaks your heart more.

It’s hard for you to look at him as he speaks, so you stare at his lap, his hands holding yours delicately. When you don’t respond, he continues. “We’ve been friends forever, and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t. I just need to explore my horizons.”

In your mind, you replace the word horizons with options. He joined a frat last semester, which you can admit, worried you at first. He assured you nothing about him would change, and you believed him. Before your logic can stop you, you spit out, “So you’re trying to fuck some sorority girls, is that it?”

He clicks his tongue at you, disappointed. You’re better than this, you know this, and he does too. “C’mon. It’s not like that.”

“Then what? Don’t bullshit me, Reiner. If you’re going to break-up with me, I deserve to know the truth.” It’s fighting words. You can’t help it when you’re defenseless like this.

He hesitates before confessing, “I’m not in love with you anymore.”

It fucking hurts to hear. The one person you were so sure would never harm you, stabbing you in every vital point of your body. It’s betrayal, disappointment, and heartache all at once, and you’d give anything to turn back the clock and go back to even a few minutes ago, when you were happily folding his laundry. You’re speechless, a jumble of thoughts stuck in your throat, gagging you until it’s too hard to breathe and you’re gasping for air. There’s static noise surrounding your ear drums, and Reiner’s voice is so muffled that you can barely understand him. You reach around him for a pillow, burying your face in it to hide your cries.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Baby. He still calls you that through a breakup. You’re his baby that he’s not in love with you anymore. It’s all so fucked up. Between anguished sobs, you ask, “What did I do wrong?”

He rambles on and on about how it’s not you it’s me. It was nothing you did, except in the back of your mind, you keep thinking why wasn’t I good enough? He strokes the back of your hand with his palm, his skin cracked and calloused from rock-climbing, one of his new favorite hobbies. You’ve been nagging him about using that special cream you bought for him, the one that’s supposed to help soothe skin with a tiny dollop. Did that annoy him? Is that the feather that tipped the scale? You can’t help but replay every single fucking thing you’ve ever said to him, every single thing you’ve ever done for him, trying to discern when and where it went downhill.

You’ve always been best friends first, lovers second. You thought it was special this way, that it means something more. Now, as you sit at the edge of the bed with him, listening to him talk in circles about how this isn’t your fault, you realize that maybe that’s what led to this. Better off as friends, nothing more. You were both sixteen when you decided to cross the line. At the time, it felt right. Looking back, maybe it was just convenient. Were the two of you doomed from that day on?

“I’ll always love you, Coco.” He repeats it, hoping it’ll make you feel better. You hold your tongue, tempted to reply then why are you doing this? It’s a slap in the face when he says it. A consolation prize reminding you that you lost.

At the end of the day, you can’t hate him. There’s too much history there. You’ve been through too much together, seen each other at your lowest points, held each other up at the highest. That kind of relationship is rare, a treasure too precious to throw away. But damn, you want to bury it in the darkest depths of the ocean right now. Hell, you want to sink down with it.

There’s no yelling; you don’t have it in your heart to scream at him with his mother in the house with you. He probably planned it like this; he knows you too well. You don’t like making a scene, especially in front of Mrs. Braun, who’s basically another mother to you.

You think back on the other night, in this very bedroom. His mom went out to dinner with some friends, leaving you two alone. Of course, you took the opportunity to fuck each other silly. He ate you out sloppily at the edge of the bed, kneeling before you on the carpet with your legs spread wide. Was he already considering the break-up in this moment? He must have. This kind of decision doesn’t just happen. As he bounced you on his cock, his usual tired eyes peering up at you with a small grin on his face, he said, “God, you’re perfect.” And when you came with his thumb on your clit, cock still buried deep in your pussy, he whispered, “I love you,” before he released inside you. He repeated it when you relaxed against his chest, bodies spent, chanting it while he caressed your back. I love you, I love you, I love you.

You sleep in his bed tonight. Instead of being cuddled in the middle, you roll the farthest you can, turning your back to face away from him. He does the same.

“Are you still awake?” he whispers, barely audible. You don’t respond.

You hear him exhale. “I’m sorry.”

Several minutes later, he stops stirring and his soft snores fill the quiet. Eventually, you fall asleep too, wiping your tears on the pillowcase.

~~~

The next morning, you pretend that everything is normal at breakfast. Mrs. Braun prepares a feast, as usual, before you make the journey back to school. She remains ignorant to the fact that you and Reiner are no longer a couple. He mentioned it last night, how he doesn’t want his mom to worry, that it’s not the right time to break the news to her. Honestly, he’s too scared to confront it, knowing for a fact how big of a deal this will be to his family. You two are practically married in their eyes. Well, were.

You do your best to act like your cheery self, despite being close to dead inside. Reiner gives you nervous glances here and there, afraid you’ll explode any second. You keep your cool, though, making conversation with Mrs. Braun, feigning excitement for the upcoming semester. Laughing along to jokes about how Reiner should be more focused on his studies and less on the frat parties. Ha ha ha.

Around noon, with the car fully packed with yours and Reiner’s possessions, you bid farewell to his mom. She gives you a warm embrace, squeezing you extra hard. “Take care of yourself, dear. And take care of Reiner too. Love you.” It takes all the strength you have left in your feeble body to not sob on the spot, so you quickly return the sentiment and walk to the passenger side, closing the door shut, burying your face in your palms. A few moments later, Reiner joins you in the driver’s seat, one more wave to his mother before starting the car and driving away.

It's silent for the first five minutes, you wiping your tears with your sleeves, him changing the song every three seconds on his playlist to preoccupy himself. He finally picks a song, a familiar one that you know all too well. It brings back memories of the summer right after you graduated high school. The melody synonymous with weekly road trips to the beach or warm nights staying in, watching a movie marathon in bed. A bowl of popcorn on your lap, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His face nuzzling your ear, lips nipping at your lobe. Soft touches leading to rough sex, with your mouth biting the pillow to muffle your moans as he pumps his cock into you. The cuddling afterwards, him whispering that he loves you, and that he’s so happy that you’re both going to the same college. Because he wants nothing more than to stay with you, to be with you, for the rest of your lives.

You can’t take it anymore. Before you realize, you reach over to shut off the radio, the silence louder than the music that was playing. He glances at you, mouth agape like he wants to yell, but he doesn’t. He focuses his attention on the road again, taking a deep breath before saying, “You could have asked me to change the song.”

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning your head against the window, watching the blur of buildings pass as you approach the freeway. “Every song on this playlist reminds me of you. Of us.”

He pauses, unsure how to respond. “I’m sorry.”

You’re sick of hearing it, but you don’t tell him that. Instead, you ask, “When did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That you wanted to break up.” After having a night to let it sink it, you’re ready to talk about it. At least, you think you are.

He thinks carefully, knuckles tight on the wheel, brow knit. You wait patiently for his answer, growing more afraid of whatever harsh truth he’s about to drop on you. “It’s been on my mind all summer, if I’m being completely honest.”

Never mind; maybe you’re not ready for this. Still, you let curiosity get the best of you. You swallow back the quiver in your throat, tears welling in your eyes again. “Why did you start thinking about it?”

He sighs, clearly uncomfortable. “Are you sure you want to hear this? I thought I already told you yesterday. It’s not you, it’s me.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the cliché. “I’d rather hear the truth than hear that bullshit again.”

He bites his lower lip, inhaling deeply through his nose. “I guess I started to think about how you and I have been together forever. Basically our whole lives. We don’t really know what’s it like to not be with each other.”

“And that’s bad?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not bad. It’s just…college is supposed to be about experiencing new things, right? Stepping outside our comfort zone. I don’t know if we can do that if we’re together. We rely on each other so much; we’ll never be able to explore the real world.”

You continue to stare out the window, watching as you zoom past the other cars on the street. Reiner has always been a fast driver, foot heavy on the gas pedal, raring to go past the speed limit for that tiny rush of adrenaline. You, on the other hand, are safe, never willing to push the boundaries, even for a fleeting moment. Maybe this type of mentality goes beyond the steering wheel.

After a moment, he asks, “Haven’t you ever been curious?”

“Of what?”

“What it would be like to date other people?”

It’s your turn to bite your lip, contemplating the question. In all honestly, you’ve never pictured yourself with anyone else besides Reiner. He wasn’t perfect by any means, and neither were you. But when you pour your heart and soul into one person for years, it’s difficult to imagine repeating that process with someone else.

You choose your words carefully. “I never thought about it, no. But I…I guess I can see where you’re coming from.”

He doesn’t respond to that. You can’t tell from his expression if he’s relieved or concerned. Minutes pass before he speaks again.

“You’re still my best friend, Coco. I hope you know that.”

You bite down on your lip harder, hoping the subtle pain distracts you from the influx of tears gathering in your eyes. Throat dense, tongue heavy, holding your breath because if you don’t, it’ll all come to a crumble. Before you lose it, you tap on the dial of the radio, turning it to increase the volume, not caring what song is playing anymore. Anything to get rid of the strained silence at the end of those words. For some reason, it hurts more than what he said last night.

He doesn’t continue and neither do you, him studying the road, you gazing at the evanescent glimmer of the ocean as you cross the bridge. Officially leaving Marley and entering Paradis, halfway to Stohess University. It was your top choice when you first started applying for college, and it became Reiner’s, too. And when you both received your acceptance letters, you were thrilled, and so was he. So much so that he ordered matching sweatshirts from the online store, ecstatic to let all his friends and family know that the two of you were going to Stohess, together. That part of your life, although not that long ago, seems like a dream. You’re wide awake now and the gut-wrenching reality of it all is settling in.

Finally on campus, you point him in the right direction towards your new dorm. He finds parking right in the front, reversing the car and backing into the spot. Turning off the ignition, he remains still, waiting for you. Without facing him, you announce, “I’m going to check in.”

He nods, looking down at his lap. “Okay. I’ll unload the car.”

After you check-in and receive your key, you make your way back to the Reiner, who’s already taken out most of your belongings from the trunk.

“I’m on the first floor, so I can take it from here,” you tell him, grabbing one of your suitcases.

“I’ll help you. It won’t take long.”

You don’t argue, swinging another bag over your shoulder and leading him to Room 104. You unlock the door, relieved that it’s still empty. Not ready to face Annie, your roommate, just yet. Reiner helps move your heaviest items, the mini fridge and a box of clothes and shoes. When everything has been pushed into the room, you both stand around, hands on your hips, waiting for the other to speak first.

“Thanks for your help,” you start. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’ll help you with your stuff now,” you offer, grabbing your keys from the desk.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure there will be some brothers there to help me.” He’s moving into the frat house on Greek Row, a few minutes’ walk from the sophomore’s dorms. Last year, the two of you lived in the same building, one floor apart from each other. It seems symbolic the way you’re separated this year.

“Anyways, I should get going,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.

“Sure.” You consider stalling by asking him to help you unpack, but you decide not to.

He looks at you, sadness in his eyes. For the first time all day, you finally meet his gaze, the lump in your throat returning. Stepping towards you, arms out, he embraces you, wrapping you snug in one of his signature bear hugs. “I love you, Coco. I really do. This is just something I have to do.”

You keep your arms to your side, nestling your face into his chest, memorizing the familiar scent of his t-shirt, tears soaking through the fabric. If you return his embrace, you’re certain you won’t want to let him go.

He kisses you on top of the head, giving you one last squeeze. Then, without another word, he walks out of your room, leaving you alone.

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