2009
Ex-roommate. Not “ex-roommate”.
At the beginning of each school year my roommate and I carefully coat our walls with various posters and mementos of our life. This year was to be our fourth and final year of living in a tiny little box together. The walls had become a sort of mural or tribute to our friendship. Hand made posters and cards galore made carefully for each other. And I am just now looking at my side of the room and really seeing my decorations. Little did I know that the room is so small that I never really appreciated how my side looks as a whole. Now I’m sitting on what used to be her bed, and I have a new perspective on so much as a result.
After coming out last semester things went south between my roommate and I. I suppose it was mostly because I had so much changing to do. I felt like a radically new person every day, and I don’t think she could take it. In the end she requested a new room, and moved out over Christmas break. We no longer speak, and I am so different that I imagine I can’t be recognized. And I’m not different because I suddenly “became gay” but because I allowed myself to incorporate certain things into my actions that I had alwasy suppressed. My view of the world is more…truthful? complete? honest? I don’t know. But I am happier living my true personality, and I now see the world differently. But she is gone, and sitting on her bed looking at my decor is just another little symbol that tells me that everything has changed. My view of the world and of this tiny room has changed. What I didn’t realize is that I never wanted to see my posters from this perspective. But that is one of the bizarre costs of change.
I commend you for coming out when you did. I waited far too long because I knew it would cause a rift that would be unrepairable between me and my best friend. She was the only person who would be upset I knew. I think that we had been like sisters for 11 years before I came out and that every single other person in my life was so supportive is the only reason we have survived. We are not the same though. We are not like sisters anymore. and its hard. We are more like friends. and I hate it too.