In case you weren’t aware of this, college is a giant pain in the ass. Like an episode of Wipeout, college involves a series of trials and tribulations you have almost no chance of dodging. On Monday, you’ll study for four tests and write three essays, and then on Tuesday you’ll do the exact same thing, plus a stack of homework due on Wednesday. This, on top of worrying about your bank account, rent and relationships, weighs down on you every day for the eight months that you’re in school.
One major problem rises above the rest—your roommate. You’ll room with a variety of people throughout your collegiate career, and there’s a 100 percent chance you won’t see eye to eye with most of them.
I’ve lived with my fair share of roommates, so when a friend and I decided to live together, I must admit that I felt a bit hesitant. I heard that rooming with friends ruins the friendship, and I didn’t want that to happen.
But when we officially moved in last fall, we easily clicked. The inside jokes developed instantly— “Yellow Eggplant” and “Air Conditioner Guy Stealing the Pizza” will probably last a lifetime. We cooked the best steak the world and watched Mr. Rodgers at 4 a.m. We munched on amazing mac and cheese and played a trillion argument-inspiring FIFA matches.
You could never nap on the couch, because the evil water sprayer would drench you from head to toe if you made that mistake. We only fought when I took too long to wash the dishes (which happened frequently I must say). We shed tears shed during the finale of Friends (not really, because we’re men who like monster trucks, fire and explosions), and we exchanged laughs over my impulsive high jinks that would begin in a matter of seconds.
I can’t count the amount of times I took care of his drunk ass as he yelled nonsense before laying on the cement because it felt “way too comfortable.” In the span of eight months, we became brothers, knowing more about one another than most could claim. We looked out for another every single day, and it was awesome.
But of course, all good things must come to an end. He’s moving off campus, and due to unforeseen circumstances, I’ll stay behind on campus. Losing a roommate who you actually enjoy totally sucks, because no one else can fill that void.
I’m no longer going to live with someone who was a part of the best year of my life. Sure, he’ll live only a hop, skip and jump away, and we’ll probably still see far too much of each other—but it’ll never be the same.
I’m grateful for the memories we shared. He helped me through a lot—from the post Happy Hour throw-ups to heartbreak and plenty of other things along the way. He gave me the confidence to achieve higher grades in school, get in shape and to live every day to the fullest.
If you’re lucky enough to find a roommate who makes your college experience that much better, make every second count. Take advantage of every opportunity you can spend with them, because a roommate like that rarely comes. The memories you share will last far beyond the bounds of your roommate-ship. Thanks for the best year ever, Harold, I’m looking forward to what other damage we can do together.
P.S. don’t forget to enjoy that Woodkid CD.
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