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The Lalagirl Lying On Her Bed
The Lalagirl Lying On Her Bed
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A Love Letter to My Freshman Dorm

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Emerson chapter.

Dear Freshman Year Dorm, 

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. Well, the first time I truly saw you, you were just a shell of a building going through the motions of reconstruction after a massive renovation project. But, truly the first time I saw you was August 26, 2019, on move-in day. I recall approaching you and immediately feeling intimidated, yet oddly welcomed. Your twisting hallways and pristine paint job felt full of opportunity and new life. 

I remember clutching the small manila envelope with my right hand as I approached 505, my dorm room. You were small and cramped with furniture practically stacked on top of each other. The window parallel to the door faced a brick wall, allowing minimal light in. However, it was all exactly what I needed. 

Little Building, specifically Room 505, thank you for everything. I barely had a twin sized bed to call my own, but you became my tiny corner of the universe. Everyone who visited immediately remarked on how welcoming your walls were. You saw my ups and downs and loved me all the same. You celebrated with us when job offers and A+ papers began rolling in. You cried with us when we wished we could click our heels three times and be back in our childhood bedrooms. You never complained when we kept you up with our coughing and sniffles. You breathed a sigh of relief with us when our three person room turned into a two person room. You gladly welcomed whatever we threw your way and rolled with the punches, and I am eternally grateful. 

I grew so much my freshman year at Emerson College. I became a stronger, more independent person, and I could not have done it without you. I do believe it is time to move on, especially with your messy kitchen habits and gross communal bathrooms. However, I am so grateful for the time we spent together. 

Before I conclude, I would like to apologize. I want to apologize for never telling you just how grateful I was for you before it was too late. The day I moved out felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I could not have imagined that a pandemic would rip you away from me, but life is strange like that. I truly took you for granted, and I didn’t realize how much you had impacted me until I took my name tag off the door for the final time. I was so heartbroken to leave you, especially since we only have seven months together. I can only pray that your next tenants will treat you right. 

Sincerely,  Liv. 

P.S. Sorry for the Command hook holes. Those things are not as easy to pull off as they look. 

Olivia is a sophomore Writing, Literature, and Publishing major at Emerson College. At any given moment, you can find her talking about books on her blog, petting dogs in the Boston Common, or impulse buying a plant or two. Ask her what musical she is currently listening to; she's dying to tell you.
Emerson contributor