Dear Kristina,
Last summer, I walked into our dorm room at camp and you were sitting there, already talking to a new friend. You went with her downstairs but not before introducing yourself and showing me the letter you’d left on my bed in case I arrived while you were out. A month later, your camp ended and you went home, leaving me in Ann Arbor-or as you affectionately call the city, A2-for another three weeks, and just like before, you left me a letter. You’ve written two letters for me total so now it’s my turn to write one for you.
Here we are: a year has passed since the first time we met and I couldn’t miss you or love you more. You were an absolutely amazing roommate and friend, and I think by now we’ve concluded that we are basically twins. From our names to both playing the flute to random seemingly telepathic text messages, sometimes it’s scary how similar we are or how it seems like I’ve known you my entire life.
I still get nostalgic every time I get flashbacks of us at camp. I remember your mom’s mint water (ugh), going to Noodles & Co., random sketch friends of friends wandering into our room (their names both start with an s), your “Don’t Tread on Me” shirt, Insomnia cookies, spreading simultaneously sometime from 11 PM to 1 AM every evening, and late night rants about debate partners and blocks and boys and annoying people. I even remember going to Bubble Island with you and some of the people in your lab the first week…that was interesting.
Anyway, that was only camp. Since then, we’ve only continued being awkward twinsies despite our schools being 2,320 miles apart from each other (that’s 34 hours by car and about 6 hours by plane). Seeing your name on my phone, Facebook, Gchat, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, or Tumblr always makes me feel warm and fuzzy like my insides are cuddling with cats’ fur-oh my god CATS, ESPECIALLY JUDITH-and I smile every time you call one my pictures “indie” or go on a liking/commenting rampage.
On a more serious note though, I love you and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. Thank you for being a living, breathing alarm clock for 4 weeks, an avid listener whenever I need to vent, for generously providing me with flow paper and leftovers here and there. Thank you for the pictures of Judith and little blips of news about the Accidentals; you did little things like that which always made my day when I was having a particularly bad one. Thank you for texting or chatting whenever you had time and for the much needed advice and support I’ve undoubtedly needed throughout this year. You’re definitely one of the best people to ever exist and I mean that in every way possible. You are the greatest: you like cats, feminism and coffee; you’re indie. You’re one of the most knowledgeable people I have ever met whether it’s about the world or about debate. I still remember talking to you one time about the politics disad and you knew everything. You’re also the nicest person I know. You’re mature and you try to empathize with people and give them the benefit of the doubt. Above all, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve dealt with health issues, relationship problems, and overwhelming adversity this year alone yet you’re still here and you never stopped caring about others the entire time.
I’m sorry I decided not to go to back to Michigan again this year-and I’m sorry I won’t be there to see the Accidentals live at the Indie fest-but it wasn’t the best choice for me…and we both know the only things I really miss are the city and rooming with you. But no matter what, you’re going to have an amazing seven weeks at camp. I can’t wait to see everyone fight over being your friend and you wrecking everyone from here on out. But if you do have bad days despite being a goddess, just remember I love you and so does Judith, and I will always have a cute animal picture waiting for you in times of need. Don’t forget to chat me once in a while when you’re sick of cutting cards in Shapiro or you’re bored in lab. I love you to death and I’ve realized it was fitting that I didn’t have a roommate the three weeks after you left: no one could fill your spot in that dorm room just like no one could ever fill your spot in my heart.
Love,
Christine
P.S. Here’s a picture of our room 🙂
Always Expressive 