Ah the couch...what can I say?  Sitting here in my semi-empty apartment, in this big room with nothing but a reading chair and a rectangular outline on the carpet where the couch used to be, I think back to all those good times we had.  Oh sure, you went through your phases: the quiet, dull phase of our college years to your teenage, rebellious pink/red/salmon/whatever-the-hell-color-you-were phase of senior year to your new, more mature and calming brown color during your one-year stay at my San Jose apartment.

We've been through a lot, and you've always been there for a good night's sleep.  I appreciate you being my bed for a week when I first moved into our house Calle Malva.  Not to mention all those nights when my bed just wouldn't cut it.  Everyone appreciates you for all the naps, sits, and restful nights you've provided over the past 4 years.  I thank you for all the good times we had watching movies, playing boardgames, and everything else you did for us.

Our house flooded, but you remained intact.  It flooded again, but you still stayed dry.  You were jumped on and pumped full of staples, but you survived.  Your pillows were hidden in the garage, but you did your best to look the part.  I tried to sell you, but fate (so Kristen says) would not let that happen.  You held your 10' length high as my dad and I struggled to wrangle you up the stairs.

I'm sad to say goodbye, but I'm glad to see you're in the hands of friends.  Matt, take good care of this couch.  Kristen, me, and whoever else has ever had the chance to chill out on this couch will thank you.

Farewell old buddy...