Oh my God, they were roommates
A year prior to starting college I had gone to a summer camp on campus for two weeks—the longest I had ever been away from my parents at that point—and I thought it was the hardest thing I had ever done. I moved to Denver at 17 without knowing a single soul, which I would immediately realize that was in fact probably the hardest thing I would ever do (naïve thinking I’m sure).
Moving into my freshman dorm, I’m sure I felt all the emotions every freshman moving in with their new roommates for the first time feels. But little did I know with this big step forward in my life, I would meet my best friend in the process. That year had many ups and downs in it that I won’t elaborate on, but the only thing that made it bearable was having my roommate by my side through all of it.
From 2017 to mid-March of this year, the two of us have lived together, making plenty of memories and plans for more. Over those past almost three years of living together with an endless string of terrible roommates, I could always look forward to late night movie nights in the common room, dragging her along to some concert that she had no idea who the artist was, seeing performances at DCPA, or spontaneous adventures even if it was just a quick trip to Target. As cheesy as it is, through thick and thin and ups and downs I knew I always had someone to depend on as we both maneuvered being out-of-state students at a commuter college.
Our list of plans to finish before she graduates in two weeks as well as our third year living together were unfortunately cut short, with everything going on. There’s no doubt that I’m absolutely disappointed about not having my best pal to greet me when we (hopefully) start back up in the fall, but I’m excited to see all the incredible things she’s going to do in law school in Oregon next year.
I also know that even being 1,255 miles apart for the first time outside of school breaks doesn’t have anything on the friendship we’ve built through the things we’ve been through together. And while I know it’s not the end, maybe saying goodbye before we both moved home in March was just a little bit harder than moving to Denver at 17.
Editor’s Pick: “I’ll Be There for You” by The Rembrandts