You're probably laying in bed, doing homework or watching Netflix; at least, that is what I was usually doing in that room. But during the hours not spent on that, I did most of my growing up in that room.

That room was my first home away from home. The place I spent more time in than my parents' house last year; the building I became an adult in.

That room served as my safe haven for six months, starting the day my parents drove away, leaving me stranded in a new place with a new, very uncomfortable bed. I walked back into that strange room realizing I had moved out of my parents' house; I was no longer living under their roof. I was on my own, left to fend for myself. That first night in that strange room was the longest, scariest night of my life. The hours I did sleep, I tossed and turned, making my lofted bed squeak (sorry, roomie). I woke up realizing I was not in a dream, that this room was my new home. This tiny, old dorm room was going to be where I spent 50 percent of my time.

A few weeks later, it gradually began to become home. I began to have a normal routine in that room. My roommate and I became forever best friends in that room. It was the birthplace of all of our inside jokes and our deepest conversations. My fondest memories were created in that room, whether it was the "Forrest Gump" movie marathon, the random dance party, or the night we had one big sleepover in that tiny, little room. It also became the place I cried the most tears when my loved one passed away or when I realized how much I missed my old bed. It was my shelter from the world outside. It was also the place that I cried the most tears of joy when I found out my best friend was engaged or that I actually had passed that calculus test I stayed up all night studying for. It was the place that taught me no matter how old I get, my parents' voices on the other end of the phone is the most beautiful sound in the world. It was the place I got ready to go to classes, to ballgames, or to go out for the night. It is the place I took the most naps in my entire life, sometimes making me miss that class or meeting I was supposed to attend. It became the place my phone would tell me I was so many minutes away from being late. It became my home.

That room taught me more than any other place has in nine months, probably even more than school. It taught me how to become an adult and live without the continuous guidance from my parents. It taught me that life is not always fun and games. Sometimes, responsibilities can come out of nowhere, and that room taught me how to handle them. That very room you are sitting in will always be a very special place to me. Though I hated its confining space and the upstairs neighbors who had parties every night, it will always be the first place I moved into on my own.

So take good care of it, and I promise it will return the favor.