To my empty room,

Well, it took a few hours, but you're finally emptied, and we're ready to part ways. Even though you've become a blank slate once again, the memories you've created have left such an imprint in my mind that I can still see all of my stuff sprawled throughout the room and hear my roommates' voices talking about what they're going to wear or what happened to them in class.

I'm not going to lie, it's a relief to see you clean and polished and alcohol-free. Just know that our roommates are sorry for what we put you through, from broken bottles to empty pizza boxes and clothes and books everywhere at all times. We didn't mean to abuse you so much. But you probably liked the chaos. Rooms are meant to be lived in, and life is messy. That's something that you would know just by living with us.

We weren't even the first kids to bring life inside your walls; there were groups before us, stories that you've seen made by kids I've never even heard of. You may appear as a blank slate to a group of new kids every year, but we're each actually just a small slice of time in your larger cycle. You've seen young girls with big hair wearing all denim, blasting Duran Duran. You've witnessed a group of guys make Bill Clinton

jokes in the 90s. You were probably wrecked during every major sporting event since before I was even born. Even though you're a temporary living space, in a way you're more permanent than we are. It's pretty cool being a piece of that history.

You've been the background for a lot of adventures and a lot of lazy nights. You've witnessed tears and ab-crunching laughter, and you probably know us better than most people. Being around you would drive me crazy sometimes, but you were also my home. You were the place I went when I needed to get away from the stress of school. You were the place that I literally called my home for nine months. Thanks for being the constant rock that I would come back to every night. There's nowhere else I would want to eat pizza at 3 a.m.

That's over now, though. And that sucks. Even though you'll always be my home, someone else will be laughing in the common room and sleeping in those beds. Your empty walls and closets mean possibility and adventure for a new group of kids that are going to take our place. It's exciting to think that a new chapter in your history is just beginning.

Someone is going to unpack their boxes and hang up new posters on your walls and probably have one of the best years of their lives with you. You'll see a lot and get to know a new set of people just as well as you knew me and my roommates and all the kids before us who woke up at noon on the weekends and figure out what happened the night before. You remember, of course, because you'll be there. I hope you witness some crazy things, but that new group of roommates has some pretty big walls to fill.

So even though we're both moving on, just always know that you'll have a special place in my heart.

Also, I'm coming back to visit and taking shots with the people who live there next.

Love,

Someone who will remember you fondly