We've come a long way since September.

I remember the first moment when I walked through your thick-wooded door struggling with tote bags of the decorations that I planned to hang on your cement block walls. I remember looking around and thinking, "This is where it all begins."

At first, we didn't agree on things. The lack of air conditioning that you provided had me and my roommates waking up drenched in sweat every morning, prompting us to shower only for our bodies to sweat again an hour later. I hated how you didn't have a bathroom built in, making it an effort to trek down the hall to shower. I had to walk to get to the dining hall, since you're located in the only building on campus without a dining area attached to it. One thing that I especially hated was your rough textured ceiling, to which I'd either bump my head upon while climbing up into my bunk bed, or scratching my knuckles on while throwing a blanket over my body. You didn't have the warm and soft bodies of my pets to snuggle with me as I drifted off to sleep.

But through all of that, I still have to thank you for everything that you've given me.

You were my home away from home, the place I'd end up at the end of each day and the place where I'd begin each of my days. You kept a roof over my head, you kept my secrets that were told within your walls, and you kept me warm at night when the temperature finally dropped below zero degrees.

You were the one to watch me change, to see the full effects that college had on me. You saw me studying more than I ever did in high school. You saw me acquire a taste for guacamole. You saw me break down a numerous amount of times from the stress of classes, and you saw my joy when the material I was learning suddenly clicked in my over-tired brain.

And now, after all this time, we have to say goodbye.

Soon, the Christmas lights that I've hung up on your walls will be taken down and put away. The pictures of the memories that my friends and I made this year will be stocked in an envelope for safe keeping. Your floors will be swept and spotless, and the mark that I've made in your space will be no more. Pretty soon, any evidence that showed that I lived with you will be gone for good.

I thought that it was so strange to think that someone other than myself once lived within your walls, and it's even more strange to realize that someone else will take my space with you next semester. After all, you're in a freshman-only building.

I hope that whoever prospers within your walls next can learn to appreciate you and what you have to offer.

And once I finally give up the shiny gold key that unlocks your door, I'll remember that it was all worth it.