I never envisioned the majority of my freshman year being spent without a roommate. Before college, it never crossed my mind that I could be living alone for most of this year. It’s taken me a long time to put together the right words to describe what kind of influence our short time together had on my life, but I think I’ve chosen what to say wisely.

From the first Facebook message about where we were from and what kinds of activities we liked or what interests we had, to the first time we met in person; from the first night away from home to all of the late nights with the other freshmen on our floor; from the mornings where I would set my alarm three or four times and you’d get pissed at me to the night you told me you were moving out. We didn’t have a lot of time together, but what we share was pretty memorable.

I'll never forget how you reacted when I told you the Phillies had been eliminated from playoff contention. I'll never forget the day I got locked out of the room and you had to leave class twice for me to come get (then go back to return) your key so I wouldn't be charged with a lockout. And I'll never forget the night you said you were moving out.

From the moment you applied (and were accepted) for a new room, the possibility of someone new moving into my room became very real for me. I offered the open space to a few friends, but they were all content where they were. As I began to spread my things across the space, I wanted a new roommate less and less. It had worked when you were here, but once I had tasted life in a single, there was no way I was giving that up without a fight. I’ve been in contact with the residential life office a few times in the interim, asking if I could move to a single somewhere else to fully guarantee that I wouldn’t get a roommate -- but so far, no luck. (At this point, I don’t think they’d move someone into a new room for six weeks to close out the year.)

The first week after you moved out was interesting because I didn’t know what to do with all the extra space in my room. Coming back to an empty room every night was a new feeling that definitely took some getting used to, because for my entire college life, you had been there once I got back from every 10-midnight a cappella rehearsal or late night video game session up in North Campus. Pretty soon, though, it became the norm for me. Now I can’t fathom the idea of coming back to a room with someone else living in it.

Eventually, I filled in the gaps with more clothes in the closet we once shared, a fridge and television of my own to replace the things you had brought with you, and an eventual reconfiguration of the room into something more suited for one person, rather than two.

While other people have had special bonds with their one, two, or three closest friends over the last seven months, I’ve been (for the most part) alone. Sometimes I miss the idea of having someone to talk to before falling asleep, but I know that having to condense back into just one side of the room would be torture. It’s still good to see you in dining halls or walking through campus, as we don’t know every detail of each other’s lives and it’s nice to catch up every so often.

As I said, it's taken me a while to think of exactly how I would describe our friendship. We had a good run.

-- George.