With less than two weeks until the college closes for the school year, it seems like the only conversations I ever find myself having are about summer jobs, final exams, plans for the last weekend or, even worse, figuring out what day everyone moves out. I do my best to avoid these conversations, of course, because I'm still in denial that I'll be halfway done my college experience in less than two weeks. I'm not too sure where the time went, but looking back, I never could've imagined sophomore year happening the way that it did.

I still remember moving in so clearly: lugging all my boxes up the hill of Sheehan, stepping into a suite of 13 other girls mixed with new and familiar faces, giving overly enthusiastic hugs to all the friends I didn't see over summer and unpacking my things in what was now my new room in the little corner. Unlike freshman year, I couldn't wait for my family to leave and to be able to reunite with all of the friends I hadn't seen since the year before.

But the thing is, nearly all of the people that I had been close with freshman year didn't end up being the same people I was close with sophomore year. Maybe it was naive on my part to think that nothing would change, but this ended up being one of the most important (and difficult) things I learned this year. I realized that most of the people I considered "friends" freshman year were the people who conveniently lived in the same building as me. I also realized that, even with the people I felt the absolute closest to, I was more so friends with the memory of them — not necessarily who they were anymore. And in their defense, I probably changed, too. In fact, I know I did: I finally started to focus more on my own wellbeing rather than others, surrounding myself with people who brought out the best in me. So, if I changed at all throughout sophomore year, I couldn't be happier about it.

There were still bad moments throughout the year, of course. There were fights, like the time it got so bad on Halloween that I ended up sitting in my car for two hours. There were a couple of interventions, including the infamous one I wasn't even present for yet still have the "emergency contact" number from. Living with a dozen other girls, there was drama, passive aggressiveness and a lot of drunk crying.

There was also some of the best memories I've made in college so far, which I mainly credit to my suitemates. There was that night walking back from New Hall with the penguin, which quickly changed from "being a fun night" to "oh god, they're bleeding" to "yeah, that was still a fun night."

There was the night the entire suite piled into the guys' room and pregamed to pop-punk music from the 2000s, signing the table as we went. There was the (multiple) nights that (multiple) people fell into the river, 11:30 lunches and Sunday morning brunches, a whole bunch of snuggles on the lovesac, playing pizza box and "signing the sheet" in my room, the snow day when we built a fort that ended up collapsing on us, our version of Cards Against Humanity, the constant changing of the group chat name, the times when Humarock "was a thing" and all the other moments in-between that ended up being documented in the Stall of Shame.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss Sheehan — even with its awful laundry situation and poor acoustics that let you learn a little too much about the people living near you — let alone sophomore year in general. I couldn't be happier than to have lived here, where people who were once strangers became some of my closest friends, and to have experienced everything alongside them. Unlike last year, I don't feel nervous moving out or like I have to wonder who'll be around the following year. I have far too much blackmail through Snapchat screenshots to worry about any of that.

But in all seriousness, thank you to my suitemates for an incredible year. I genuinely don't know what I would've done without you 12 crazy, loud and (most importantly) loving ladies.

Now let's do it all again in the junior courts.