Best friendless for four months

Kristine Gill

My roommate recently dropped a bomb on me. Yes, a bomb. One of those huge ones that come in the Acme packaging and read “watch out,” “danger,” “sure to crush you physically and emotionally.”

What horrible thing did she do this time you ask? She didn’t forget to close the door to our dorm; she didn’t leave crumbs on the futon and hair in the shower drain. She didn’t lie to me or eat one of my microwave dinners out of the freezer. No, Stephanie did something much worse than any of those things.

She decided to leave me. After nearly 12 years of friendship she’s packing up and shipping out to New York to take classes for her fashion program. She’ll be gone for an entire semester, which people keep reassuring me is really only four months. I beg to differ.

So much is going to change in four months. I’m going to get haircuts, I might start dating someone new (unlikely, I know), and I’m going to have life-changing revelations. Basically she won’t even recognize me if she comes back. I will have been so emotionally strained during that time away from her that I’ll have completely changed. She will too.

She’s going to make a new friend called Stacey or something cuter than Kristine, who is prettier, funnier and cooler. Stacey and Stephanie will visit fabulous nightclubs in New York, meet chic friends and paint each other’s toenails while they share deep, dark, best-friend-only secrets.

Meanwhile, I’ll move in with Stephanie’s boyfriend, and we’ll wallow in self-pity for four months as we await her glorious return.

Maybe I’ll hold auditions for a temporary best friend. I can make sure she isn’t prettier than me or better at math and that she doesn’t have such a great sense of fashion. Or maybe I’ll just bottle up all of my girl feelings and save them for when she gets back.

I was ready to cry when she told me.

I’m sad because I like swiping my card and opening the door to see that the light is on and there’s Stephanie, ready to take my backpack and wrap me up in a blanket on the couch while I watch my favorite show. I’m sad because Stephanie is the one who buys the plastic cutlery for our fine dining needs, has a vacuum cleaner and buys aerosol spray for the bathroom. I’m sad because she’s a good roommate that doesn’t complain about the Christmas lights and posters from Subway and “The Office” that I’ve tastefully decorated our room with. I’m sad because she won’t be there to come home to and because while it’s only for four months this time, one day it will be forever and ever.

It doesn’t help that I can’t look at her the same anymore. She’s like a dead man walking. She’s been marked. Our time is limited. I could narrow down the exact number of days we have left together.

I don’t mean to give her the guilt trip. I know it’s an amazing opportunity and I’m super proud, but come on New York, do you really need her? More than I do? Isn’t there someone else whose best friend you can steal? Maybe not. Auditions start next week.

Kristine Gill is a sophomore newspaper journalism major and columnist for the Daily Kent Stater. Contact her at [email protected].