Dear Riki Dows, aka MotorMouth Maybelle, aka Mistress Quickly, aka Pretty Riki;

I met you the first day of move in. It was August 2016, my freshman year, your sophomore year. Once I saw that you were going to be my roommate, I stalked you. I had to find out where I could contact you without actually texting you. I messaged you on Facebook to get a feel for you and I remember asking you how you felt about spiders. You thought I was going to bring a pet spider, but no. I had to make sure we felt the same about killing them and removing them from the room ASAP.

You met some of my family during move in, and next thing you know, there’s a baby in your arms and the tiny space we would soon share became cluttered with my entire life.

I had just lost my dad that March and you didn’t find out until I came into the room one day and had a complete breakdown. You asked if I was OK, and I told you that I was fine — that I was grieving.

There were so many moments during that first year that brought us closer together. We couldn’t stand our suitemate who just barged into our space without permission until everything boiled over and we just learned to ignore it. We shared our stories with each other. You learned that I was in a very toxic relationship and advised me whenever I asked to just dump him and move on.

We laughed over and about things we wouldn’t normally laugh over. We turned a sad conversation into a gut-busting story.

Here comes our second year, and we’re living in Wolf Ridge Apartments and we have our separate spaces. We still ventured into each other’s rooms from time to time. I had learned that your best friend had died and we both had something to grieve and joke about. We joked about dying and saying that at least we would be able to see them and spend time with them.

There came a time when I got a phone call and I got pissed to the point where I started pacing the floor ranting and then smacking the bathroom wall to sitting on the bathroom floor crying. You offered to get me some Ibuprofen for the headache that you knew would come. You told me that you were glad that I finally let go. That I released the hurt and the anger that I had been holding in since my dad died.

I tell everyone and I believe I told you that God knew what He was doing when He made us roommates. I never met someone who does it all and still comes out on top even though you’re exhausted in the process. It’s like magic to me. You can get school work done, go to work, go to classes, audition for school plays, attend rehearsals, get at least seven hours of sleep and then make time for friends. Your grades are good and I just never understood how you handled all of that pressure.

We became friends and could confide in each other when needed. You kept me on my toes and along with outside forces pushed me to break free of the shell that I'm in. You made me laugh more times than I count and all you did was be you. You never changed who you were because you were around me. We meshed so well and I don’t think I would’ve survived being away from home and trying to process the fact that my father was dead and I was for intensive purposes homeless.

This is me saying thank you for last year and the upcoming years we have together as roommates and friends.