I am writing you this letter as I finish the last of my exams and prepare to pack up everything that made this little rectangular room my home. As I begin the long process of packing my life into boxes once again, I can’t help but to think back on my first year of college, and all of the memories I have made. Countless times, these cement walls have heard my laughter and my tears, my venting and my fears.

I would not have wanted to call any other place “home” these past nine months, and now, it’s your turn. While no two experiences of dorm life are the same, I can assure you that there are some things that will happen.

You will spend hours upon hours imagining what your new home will look like before you even arrive. You’ll pick out a bedspread in your favorite color, print out pictures of your best friends to hang on your wall, and stock up on all those “essentials” that won’t make it out of their packaging. When move-in day arrives, you will be so excited that when your parents wake you up to get an early start, it won’t matter because you have already been up for hours. Packing up the car will be like Tetris, and once that’s done, you’ll start on your way.

When you arrive on campus, it will be crowded and loud. It will be hot, and you will sweat. The dorm does not have air conditioning, so one you begin to break a sweat, which you will in the first five minutes, it won’t stop for the next three weeks. When you find Room 135, you will immediately come up with a way to help you remember where it is. My way happened to be the Mean Girls quote: “Sorry, we only carry sizes 1, 3, and 5. You can try Sears.” You’ll meet your roommate for the first time. She will be your partner in crime, worst enemy, and sister all in one. It will be you and her against the world.

As the year goes on, you’ll come to love all of the imperfections of Room 135. The blinds have some missing pieces, and don’t cover the whole window. The windows face the back of the building, though, so it will be fine. The temperature is never quite right, you’ll always be too hot or too cold. Even though the room is pretty small, everything will fit in the room, somehow. You’ll even forget where you put some things, despite the limited amount of places for it to be (shout-out to the orange that I lost in the freezer, and the bowl of queso and chips that my roommate lost in the microwave).

Nothing can truly prepare you for the experience of living on your own for the very first time, but I will promise you that Room 135 is the perfect place to do so. It is strange to think that when I arrive back on campus this fall, I won’t be greeted by my roommate, or flop on our matching bedspreads. I will always consider Room 135 to be my home away from home. Please take care of our room. If you let it, this next year will be the best year of your life, and Room 135 will be there for you through it all.

Sincerely,