When you first arrived, you were scared. Everyone warned you that dorm rooms were similar to a prison cell; small, with cold cement walls, and fluorescent overhanging lights. And it was true, as the cube was plain, uninviting, and nothing like the warm room at your own home. Lined up in a neat row against the long wall were the necessities- two desks, two drawers, and two plain mattresses on skeleton frames for you and your new roommate. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. In the corner, your previous life was packaged in neat little boxes, and you had to somehow blend the two halves together, and it was going to be a process.
It wasn’t an easy journey- for hours at a time over the first couple days you unpacked boxes, threw away shrink wrap, and hung photos on the white walls that seemed to bring little comfort from all the things that were missing from home. Everything smelled new, almost sterile, and remained that way for the first couple of weeks. You and your roommate both stayed very organized, making sure that everything was placed back neatly where it had been a moment before, as not to disturb the equilibrium and preciseness of the newfound home. It was acceptable, livable, but still felt kind of empty.
And what changed? The room began to fill with laughter. The joyous notes of new friends entering and leaving, and the art of conversation seemed to give the room a more distinct personality. Song lyrics floated in and out on karaoke nights, voices raised during intense games of Catchphrase, and secrets were shared over clutched pillows. Tears also filled the room. Moments of overwhelming sadness when the stress became too much, when things didn’t work out the way you wanted with that boy, or you got in a fight with your parents.
But that same room also brought you comfort. Snuggled amongst pillows in the darkness you listened to the soft hum of the mini fridge that lulled you to sleep every night, or the pang of the radiator famous for not doing its job. In the shared space you learned about courtesy, understanding and respecting your roommates’ preferences and boundaries, learned how to compromise, and tried to make each other happy. You learned about friendship, as that cramped space brought you and another human being closer than you ever would have imagined.
And then the months passed. Seasons changed- you trekked mud in the halls and stripped heavy jackets and created puddles on the floor with your umbrella. There were nights in, nights out, late nights, and early mornings amongst a tight knit crew that would just as willingly play board games all night as they would go out to parties. The room changed as did the weather, and the memories on your walls began to reflect your new life. Surely your best friend’s picture stayed put- but surrounding her were moments you had experienced while in school. Silly smiles in selfies, your picture with the mascot, ticket stubs from campus events, and your first love letter. You had grown, you had changed, and you were not the same scared little college freshman that you had been when you first got to school in late August of last year.
But as quickly as you came, you had to leave. For the last few days before break, you were stressed out between projects, presentations, and finals, so there was little time to soak in the fact that the room would soon be stripped away to reveal the same white and fluorescent cube that you first been provided. And when that last week rolled around, you packed up boxes and bags and organized suitcases to make sure you didn’t forget anything. Tape was removed from the walls, pictures placed in plastic baggies, and soon the room was a skeleton once more.
And you knew you would miss it. You were thankful for being stuck in that small room with a complete stranger. But you also knew you wouldn’t forget it- perhaps you would visit it again in the following year- to see how that cube changed the next roommates’ lives. Or maybe you left your signature somewhere in the way back of the closet in hopes that someone someday might find it, wonder who you were, and question what happened in the room that year.
