An Open Letter To My First Year Roommate

It’s move-in day and I’m excited and nervous all at once. I sit in the passenger seat of my dad’s truck, filled to the brim with everything I think I might need, joking with my sister about what I’ll have to do if you snore. I am so glad you didn’t snore.

I’m a little disappointed by the placement of our room—first room on the right, next to the door, wall shared with the stairwell—we complain about this constantly. I’m a little disappointed that I don't get to choose the side of the room I want but I end up liking my side better. I’m more than a little stressed when you and your family walk in minutes later—I kind of wanted to spend the first night alone in the new room. Little did I know that the room would feel strange on nights you weren’t there.

Our names sounded similar and we laughed about that, but there was so much more we had in common. We both had the same idea to hit the dollar store before moving in and had a lot of the same items, we were both taking random classes but we were pretty sure what we wanted to do, and we talked about the roommate survey and how we lied on the same question. We both had bed risers and even though yours were taller than mine, our beds were the same height because my mattress topper was thicker. We both had Tyler Knott Gregson’s first book; honestly, this is what sold me on you—and the fact that you didn't snore.

I brought the fan and you had the fridge—it was a match made in roommate heaven. One of the first things you said to me was, “you can use this, this is our fridge.” We stayed up until four in the morning that first night, just talking—little did we know this would become all too frequent in our quiet lives in room 430.

The eight months I spent living in a shoebox with you were the best part of my first year. We found an easy and natural balance in our lives—marveling at the fact that we could have alone time despite being in the same room—though, let's be honest silence wasn’t common in our room, except for the naps we took simultaneously. Remember our neighbours complaining that they heard us laughing at all hours? It was an unspoken rule that we would brush our teeth and go to bed at the same time—I still think this is the epitome of our roommate goals.

We don't see each other nearly as much as we used to—I miss our friday lunches and late night snack runs—but it's okay. When we do see each other it's like no time has passed. I ask about your family, you ask about mine—it's easy. I think it’s always going to be easy with us and I feel so incredibly lucky to have met you. There is so much I could thank you for—like forcing me to call my dad when I was having a breakdown, or buying me dinner when I worked late and the cafeteria was going to close, or making my bed when you knew I was coming home from a crappy day. But really, thank you for lying on your roommate survey.

Yours,

Maggie

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