To my first- and only- roommate,
I hadn't lived with anyone before you. Except my parents and the occasional house cat, but they don't count...do they? We met once for around four hours and suddenly, in our infinite, 18-year-old wisdom, decided to be college roommates together. I knew this was going to go one of two ways: 1) horrid or 2) amazing. But I wouldn't know until I ended up living with you.
I knew immediately when we met for room preview day that we were going to be great friends. We sat in our chairs opposite each other and talked with great ease. I left room preview bubbling with excitement even more anxious to move into my dorm.
On move-in day, I waited all day for you to get there and move in so the roomie process could begin...so we could stay up late and talk about stupid things, so we could feign studying together just to talk, so we could sit in the caf and people- (or hot boy-) watch. And we did just that. We said goodnight five times in one night and just kept talking about pointless stuff for hours. We turned away to type a paper or read a book and less than a minute later were talking again for an hour. We “discreetly” pointed at cute boys when they walked in and gave them code names since we didn’t know their names. You were the first roommate I have ever had, and it was everything I had hoped for.
But the year is almost up. By the time this is posted, we will have less than a week until our freshman year is over and you go back to Harker Heights and I go back to Whitesboro. You’ll be four whole hours away from me and we’ll both have jobs and, let’s be honest, we may not talk at all. Which actually breaks my heart a little; you’ve grown to be one of my best friends in the eight months we have lived together.
But this isn’t going to be me whining about how much I’m going to miss you (though I really will).
I want to thank you. Thank you for all those late-night conversations, for all the hours spent stalling on homework, and for the times we people-watched in the caf. Thank you for listening to me blab on and on about how much I hate Sookie Stackhouse and how much I love the people I’m in theatre with. Thank you for making me tea after I had a meeting with a professor that made me cry and thank you for staying up late with me when I was having boyfriend troubles and letting me cry all over your comforter. Thank you for sharing cake with me and laughing at all my bad puns and horrible jokes. Thank you for continuing to be my friend even when I’m a rude bitch or in a salty state or acting bitter. Thank you for being my shoulder to cry on and the one to make me laugh. Thank you for curling my hair that first month and telling me if my outfit looks bad since we lack a real mirror. Thank you for taking too many selfies with me and letting me post the ones that are better of me (except for that one time you posted a picture of you and a goat and tagged me as the goat). Thank you for parp, frick frack, and letting me call you stupid nicknames
Thank you for putting up with me as much as you do. I don’t know how you do it; I’m such a pain in the butt, and you somehow you manage to put up with me and hang out with me. I’m sorry I can be rude, I’m sorry I’m annoying, I’m sorry I’m clinging and needy, and I’m sorry I’m an emotional wreck. You deserve the best roommate that Austin College could offer you, and I’m just sorry that it can’t be me. But I am so glad that I got to watch you grow and do such amazing things this year. I mean, who knew you would join the swim team?! And now you love it and have done such a great job in it! You are so kind, smart, and beautiful and I know that you are going to do such great things and conquer the world. Just make sure that when you’re the empress of the world that I don’t have to be a plebian. Cool?
Thank you for being the best roommate that I have ever had (and the only one I’ve ever had).
--Your roommate
