Maybe we met in the dorm, awkwardly introducing ourselves while brushing teeth. Maybe we met in freshman chemistry, anxiously trying to find a seat amidst a swarm of other nervous freshmen. Maybe we bumped into each other on the top of the ropes course, legs shaking, arms outstretched to help one another to the end. But we all found one another. We all coagulated together; I do not remember when exactly. One day we were just lonely drifting, trying to figure out this whole new dimension of our lives. The next day we were eating in that awful dining hall, laughing and discussing anything and everything our curious minds wanted to discuss.
It was like watching magnets. We all just fit together somehow. We were all similar in just the right ways, and different in all the right ways to keep things vibrant. We had the guy who was always sleeping, the mom, the Drake enthusiast, the sarcastic old man, the wild child, the voice of reason, and the gossip queen. We had scheduled meal times and favorite hangouts. We meshed quite well together.
The best part was that we weren’t just “peas and carrots.” We were interesting. This was the first time in our lives that we were surrounded by people with similar interests, similar goals, and completely different opinions about how to obtain these. Our debates would last many days and even though some of us would be in tears or about to pull our hair out, we always maintained our respect of the opposing person. Whether it was physics, politics, or psychology, we always could find a good arguing topic. We were finally free from the inhibitions of our childhood. We were not afraid to tell these new people exactly what was on our mind. I am pretty sure other people got so tired of hearing us.
That’s the funny thing about living with practical strangers. The time span of the normal progression of relationships is shortened so drastically that one day a person is just a neighbor, and the next day they become your rock. That’s what happened to us, we started to open up to one another, telling of our past mistakes and triumphs, and how they had shaped us into the people we were today. We learned who snored, who hated horror movies, who liked pickles, and who drove a really nice car. We got our hearts broken. We watched SNL every Saturday night. We went to Yogli Mogli like 20 minutes before it closed because we were just too lazy to get up and go earlier.
We started to affect one another. Adapting to fit this new place we called home. We would get angry with each other, swearing that we couldn’t wait for holidays to get a break from these crazy goons. And then once we were on break, we spent every moment pining for Saturday night drives and midnight Cook Out runs. We learned how to live with other people. We learned how to live with ourselves. We learned that we all came from different backgrounds and we tried to understand each other. Sometimes we did, sometimes we didn’t. But at the end of the day, we knew that this unit was a family, dysfunctional but strong. We learned how to take care of each other. We knew that we were tossed into each other’s lives by fate, but we stayed by choice. We started to trust, we started to care.
Freshman year is over. We have all taken our separate ways for the summer. Even though we make plans for having Sunday brunches or continuing to watch SNL together, it is never going to be the same as living under one roof. It’s going to change our dynamic. I am really scared for that. I have heard so many people tell me that I am lucky to have found such an amazing group at such a pivotal moment in my life. I don’t want to lose this camaraderie. I don’t want to lose you. But I have faith that even though we may not see each other on the daily, the bonds of our friendship are unyielding to the winds of change.
Yours truly,
Kathy
