Dear Room 321,

We’ve had our ups and downs. You’re something I’ll never forget, though. You brought me so many great memories. Without you, I wouldn’t have found my best friend in college. You were my home away from home and as much as I hated the limited living space you offered, I couldn’t imagine my freshman year without you. I am moving on with my life and moving into off campus housing, but as I do so, I think you deserve some recognition.

There is something about that tiny room that I just can’t shake. Maybe it was the stories the walls held from residents before that they could never tell or maybe it was the way they kept our hushed whispers a secret. Whatever it was, it made me fall in love with you. You weren’t much and were pretty barren when we moved in. Once we got settled, there was hardly a bare spot on your walls. Whether it was a canvas or a tapestry, there was something covering you. We strung lights from all corners of the rooms to make you a bit more homey than the last residence had you. You were ours for the next eight months. We wanted to make the most of you.

Oddly enough, I will miss that slick spot in the floor than I almost fell on many times in the dead of the night. I will miss being able to talk to my roommate for hours whether she wanted me to or not because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. I could probably do without the sink spraying me every time I turn it on, but you wouldn’t be the same without that finicky faucet. I will miss hearing my sorority sisters giggling outside in the hall at all hours of the night. I will miss the convenience of walking to class and how there was always someone next door when I needed a late night Taco Bell run. However, I won’t miss that lock of yours, because I got locked out of you several times because of it.

I want to thank you for bringing me my roommate who was always there to hear me rant about anything and everything. Thank you for being the tiny space we shared and forced us to be closer than we wanted to be at times. Thank you for being a revolving door for my sisters. Thank you for having your own private bathroom because Lord knows I don’t use public bathrooms. Thank you for being a safe haven for me when nothing could seem to get any worse.

Your walls holds many tales. Some that are probably better forgotten. Packing up and leaving you was bittersweet. It meant that one chapter was closing and another beginning, but it also meant someone else would be moving into you in the fall. I hope you’re as good to them as you were to me and my roommate. Lastly, I’m sorry to the following residents for the pink hair dye stains on the sink. That was my fault.