Late one night last week, my roommate and I were working in silence, an old video of our favorite YouTuber playing in the background, when it hit me: we only have a few more nights like this. The quintessential college experience, having a roommate, will be over for me in a matter of days, and I’m incredibly sad about it. We’ve all heard roommate horror stories, but I’ll leave this part of my life with none. Instead, I’ll leave with a best friend. We’ve been roommates from our very first night in the dorms freshman year to now, our final weeks as sophomores. Despite living in barely enough square feet for even one of us, that closeness only strengthened our bond. With finals and move-out approaching, I wanted to appreciate what this experience has meant to me.
Before college, I wasn’t sure who I was going to be outside my parents’ home. I worried not just about getting to know my roommate, but also about who I’d become with a taste of independence. In those early days, we were both trying to navigate the discomfort of college life. Our friendship started to grow one night when we got hopelessly lost on East Campus. When we realized how far off track we were, we laughed until we fell onto the grass outside UREC. We still laugh about it to this day.
I knew we were becoming real friends during a tough breakup freshman year. Instead of letting me spiral, she blasted Christmas trap music (yes, that’s a thing) and danced until I cracked a smile. That moment kicked off what would become a tradition of dance parties: our go-to move whenever life feels like too much.. Every time we try to bust a move, we end up laughing instead, and it’s helped me realize how healing friendship can be.
In our second year, our bond deepened. We settled into a rhythm, with daily routines almost entirely unspoken. She sends me videos of me sleep-talking; I retaliate with photos of her sleeping in odd positions. My favorite ritual is a button on our wall. Press it, and we drop everything for a 30-second dance break. Especially during finals chaos, it’s how we shake off the stress: 30 seconds of pure, goofy joy.
She’s taught me a lot about myself. As someone more introverted, she helped me understand that connection doesn’t always require conversation. Sitting in comfortable silence with her has helped me grow not just as a roommate, but as a communicator and friend.
I’ll miss living in the same room with her. Though we’ll still be roommates next year, we’ll have more space, and more distance, than ever. I worry about the loneliness of having my own room. So many of our inside jokes came from cohabiting: the toilet that flushes for 30 seconds, fake-sleeping to avoid visitors, and pausing each other’s shows when one of us dozes off. There’s a deep comfort in knowing someone always has your back, even in the weirdest parts of daily life.
I’ve learned it’s the people around me who help shape who I am. My roommate has become more like a sister than just a friend. We’ve seen each other unfiltered, nothing like the polished versions we show the world, and offered each other total acceptance. That room became the place where we both got to just be, no pressure, no pretending. Honestly, I think I’ll miss that the most.
Even though this chapter is closing, I’ll carry every laugh, every silence, and every dance party with me. I’’ll be forever grateful for the room we shared and the person I’ve become because of it.
ShoutOut! James Madison University 