Dear Roommate,
by admin • January 14, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Frustration • 0 Comments
Remember when we signed up for this apartment? How excited we were; How we felt like the world could be changed because of it?
I do.
I remember every word you said, every promise we made.
Not only do I remember, I’m willing to keep them.
I’m willing to take a chance and go exploring;
to take full meals to the homeless,
to bake cookies and give them away to random people everywhere and anywhere, to travel to all the hiking places in the area and maybe if we feel like it sleep under the stars… just to list a few.
I remember how excited we were to share each other’s lives for the year. I would meet your friends and you would meet mine. You would take me to your favorite places and I would take you to mine.
We had it all worked out.
All of it.
Every day.
Every moment.
Every dream.
And I knew it wouldn’t all happen, that along the way one or the other of us would change their mind and we wouldn’t get to see the top of the Oyster Dome in Bellingham, or walk around Green Lake like we wanted or something.
I just didn’t realize I would bend over backwards to make sure you were happy and you would just turn and spit in my face.
I didn’t think that you would back out of EVERYTHING…
that giving food to the homeless or distributing cookies (outside of our apartment building) would be “too dangerous”;
that hiking was “strenuous” and you often would get “headaches” just before we were going to leave;
that your friends would come over and be absolutely boring but I would still smile and try to have fun;
that you would have “too much homework” or not feel well every time my friends wanted to come over and that you would show little interest in meeting them at all;
that every time we tried to hangout and plan for something I would end up home alone because you double booked and I wasn’t important enough to you to have you stay.
And then the day when I found out I have skin cancer, you would be rude and make my day even shittier than previously.
How dare you.
Live a little, princess, you’re missing the ball because you aren’t willing to dance.
