I am the kind of person that is particularly prone to falling in love with the world and the people in it, but going into college, people always seemed to tell me to do anything but that with my freshman roommates.
I was told two things time and time again. First and foremost: under no circumstances should you live with your best friend – the love that was there will disappear when you live with the person. Thankfully, I suppose, I didn’t know a single person going to Tulane, so this wasn’t a problem. Second, work for peaceful coexistence and avoid mutual destruction – and keep that as the standard.
So I found two girls on our roommate matching platform, we had a thirty minute video call, and we decided to room together. Texas, Utah, Georgia. It wasn’t random, but very close. And then, sharing our bathroom, two more girls we had never met. The five of us, building something brand new.
I tried not to love them, I really did. It lasted all of two minutes. I’ve never been much good at that. We spent the very first day together, and the very first Saturday mornings sitting in bed and debriefing the previous night with each other.
Months later, I was talking to my therapist and trying to find the words for the moment over Thanksgiving break when my mother turned to me and asked me if I was ready to go back to school. I had felt it then, in the pit of my stomach, and I told her as much. I missed them. We were on the phone, and her voice came crackling through the end of the line, breaking the silence where my words had come up short.
You didn’t think you would love them this much, she said.
And that’s it, isn’t it? You walk into this part of life that everyone tells you will knock you on your ass, and then, suddenly, it’s the only thing that doesn’t. Suddenly it feels like the only thing holding you up. I was warned so much that the love wouldn’t be there, to hope for coexistence, friendly, acquaintance at best. Anything but love. But against all odds, there it was.
In those first few months of fall, I felt like my whole life was falling apart. But then I came home to my room, and one roommate, fighting off several illnesses of her own, walked in with a bag full of chocolate for me. The other, about to walk out the door for her Friday night, didn’t blink an eye before she climbed onto my bed and held me while I cried.
Of course, put two oldest daughters and an only child in a room together and there’s bound to be bickering, but the love was always there first. And I have a brother. There’s really no feeling like bickering with someone that you know loves you anyways. It makes life so much easier to live.
So I love them. Of course I do. Moving in with people you’ve never met is always going to be a little bit scary, but the biggest mistake I made about it was to listen to the people that told me not to let them in. Don’t listen, please. What can I say? You just might get a miracle – and you wouldn’t want to miss it.
Featured image via Sydney Soganich.
Sydney Soganich is a writer for Sex and the Crescent City. She is a Freshman majoring in Political Science on the premed track. If she's not working, she's probably reading a romance novel or watching a romcom!