Dear Roommate,

I just want to start out by openly saying that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I had to put you through what was probably the most awkward semester of your life. Although at times what I was feeling was completely out of my control, I'm so sorry that you somehow got stuck in the middle of my abundance of emotions.

But more importantly than apologizing, I understand that there is so much that I need to thank you for. I know that had I been in your situation, there would have been absolutely no way that I would have been able to put up with myself. I don't know how you did it.

Thank you for giving me my space when I needed it the most. Somehow you always seemed to know the moments when I really just needed my space, and I am so unsure as to how that was. You gave me the space that I needed to heal and deal with my emotions without embarrassment, including the times you had to wait in the hall for me to text you that it was okay to come in to our room because I was mid-anxiety attack at the time. Thank you for understanding that it wasn't that I didn't want to spend time with you, it was that I didn't really want to spend time with anyone.

Even though most days all I wanted was to be left alone, thank you for getting me out of the dorm when you knew I needed it the most. Whether it be to a house party filled with people I didn't know or a girls day at the mall, I appreciate your endless efforts to make sure I wasn't actually as lonely as I was feeling. I know the days where we would be in the middle of doing something and I would burst out into tears were annoying, but somehow you remained unfazed and continued to invite me to do things with you. Thank you for pushing me to do things other than lay in bed all day.

Thank you for being as supportive as possible with the weird habits and coping strategies I somehow picked up over the semester. From being accepting of my 18-20 hours of sleep a day where I would only get up to go to class and eat dinner, to accepting the amount of inspirational quotes I had littered around the room on sticky notes, you never questioned why I was acting the way I was. Most importantly, thank you for dealing with me filling the room with Taylor Swift music, accompanied by my tears, literally all day, every single day.

Thank you for being patient with what you couldn't fully understand. I know that I ranted to you every night about why I was struggling, but I know that there is no possible way that you fully understood exactly what I was going through. Thank you for sitting there and listening anyways and attempting to give me advice, whether I took it or not.

And most importantly, thank you for being one of the few things in my life that remained constant during an extremely rocky three months. There aren't enough sorry's, thank you's, or articles that I could write to fully get my point across to you.

Thank you for loving me when I was unable to love myself.