Someone very wise once said, "you ain't gotta go home, but you can't stay here." As the end of the school year drew nearer, I began to wonder: what do you do if the place you stayed in for nine short months became your second home, and those that inhabited your little hall became closer than family? In all honesty, very few incoming college students look forward to on-campus dorm living, but rather would spend their days and nights in an apartment somewhere a few miles off campus where the strict dorm rules of "no partying" don't apply. Some students, however, will thoroughly enjoy living in the dorms on campus like I did, and one soul, through the luck of the housing lottery, will be placed in the room I spent my freshman life in.

To the girl who gets my dorm,

I feel a congratulations are in order. Sure, the dorm is old. The building smells antiquated and like it's "like totally old," and to some, it may be. It was built in the 70s. The paint on the walls is thick from multiple layers, chipped from picture hanging attempts gone awry, and what was once white (I suspect) is now a slight yellow. The carpet hasn't been replaced or changed since the building was erected. It's stained with paint, mud, ink, hair dye, bleach, food and drink, and possibly blood. It's permanently dingy and no amount of scrubbing will make it "sparkle like new." The vents make too much noise and they're coated with a thick layer of dust that no amount of Swiffer pads can remove. The windows don't always close completely, if ever, and the blinds above them are broken and torn. Sure, looking at it now, the place was filled with dust, germs, grime, and maybe even some mold. Who knows?

If you look closely enough, though, you can see the memories strategically placed throughout the dorm building and even my dorm room itself. Initials are carved into walls and bathroom stalls. Names and dates are written in sharpie in the corner of the elevators in memory of our shenanigans. The rips in the couches were done by god knows what, but we made good use of them by hiding hallmates' personal belongings in them in order to watch a wild goose chase soon ensue. All sorts of nonsense is and was hidden in the ceiling tiles. The cloth of the pool table is ripped from games that got a little too competitive, and spaghetti is probably still stuck behind the TV in the hallway from our pasta fight (long story, don't ask.)

So, whoever gets this dorm, a lot of shenanigans have taken place within those walls, both good and bad. A lot of laughs have been shared and a lot of tears have been shed. A lot of food was made (maybe too much), a lot of food was burned (two minutes on those microwaves is TOO much, by the way). A lot of movies were watched and I can bet you money that enough studying was NOT done. At the end of the day, though, a lot of friends were made. A lot of BEST friends were made. Some friends were lost. Some relationships were made, and some were broken. All in all, a lot of love was had in that building.

The hall in which your dorm room will be is the hall that was by far, hands down, the closest. Fights were had, engagements were made, makeovers were done, pounds were gained, bones were broken, "Friends" was watched (too often (whoops)), and the best friends I could have ever been given were made.

Sure, you may think 12x10 isn't a lot of space, and it isn't enough space for the physical stuff; however, 12x10 is more than enough space for the memories that you will have in my old dorm. I hope you love it as much as I did, and frankly, still do and always will.