My Ex...Roommate, That Is
Nette did not tell me about her boyfriend until a month had passed. My heart and soul were pierced by the sword of bitterness and rejection. A new someone had taken my place, and the affection meant for me was passed on to a man. A man! Ah, the tragedy of it all. I shall not survive!
"Stop being so dramatic," Nette says to me in the midst of my bemoaning. "It's not like we're never going to have sleepovers anymore."
I roll my eyes at her, not wanting to admit that she is right. Still, now that she's engaged I can't help thinking back over our friendship.
I still remember the night Nette and I met. It was literally one minute after my mother had pulled out of the Mayfield parking lot, leaving me on my own for the first time at college. I heard footsteps following me on the way back to Mayfield, turned around, and there she was, all gung-ho to say "Hello! Who are you!" to me. We were neighbors on the Up New hall. I remember greeting her in the dim light of the hallway as we both left for breakfast and early morning classes. I was a little shy, but decided I liked her after I saw the books on her bedroom shelf. As the daughter of an English teacher, I never stop looking at what books people own. From what I could tell, Nette had reasonably good taste.
We had Wellness together, and planned our work outs to coincide with each other's schedule. The weight room was a scary place for me, full of sweating, testosterone crazed males. I rarely went without Nette because I hated working out alone in front of all those boys. One day, after pushing the little metal bar up and down to help "tone my biceps," I stood up and flexed my sore arms in front of the mirror.
"Somebody call the vet 'cuz these puppies are sick!" I declared. According to Nette, this when she knew we were going to be friends. I think that's also when the guys in the weight room decided I was crazy.
Nette and I eventually moved from Up New to Up Old, where we were neighbors again. After some convincing on Nette's part, (I believe she calls it "the time when I wooed you") we moved in together as roommates the next year. This is when our friendship began in earnest because every single day we made memories together. In my mind's eye I can see Nette giggling as I collapse on my side of the room saying "Oh bed, how I have missed you," and I hear myself teasing her for her obsession with NCIS (I have since been converted). Like all girls, we talked about boys, and even now Nette can say one name that will make me giggle uncontrollably. I loved being her roommate, and I especially loved grabbing her cell phone and talking to whomever was on the other end without provocation.
In every friendship there is, of course, an argument. Ours began because I went for a barefoot walk one day to smell magnolias. For weeks my friends had driven by some magnolia bushes on our way to church, and I kept asking them to stop so that I could get out and smell the flowers, but they refused. I finally decided to go by myself and smell to my thrilled nose's content. Later, I took Nette down there with me.
"I love magnolia bushes!" I said, burying my nose in the flowers.
"Rach, I'm pretty sure these are trees," Nette said. I eyed the bush in front of me.
"No, Nette, that one over there is a tree, and this one is a bush."
"No, it's a tree. It's going to end up just like that other one."
"But it's a bush right now," I said. We drove off a few minutes later, both still trying to get the last word in. To this day, we drive by that bush and Nette insists on calling it a tree. I'm hoping she will someday see the error of her ways.
Despite this little spat of ours, now that Nette is engaged I find myself happy and sad. Happy because she is marrying her best guy friend, which is exactly how it should be. Sad because those wonderful days of staying up late watching NCIS and falling asleep in the same room are now over. Regardless, Nette and I will always be friends, and she will always be my favorite ex-roommate.
"Stop being so dramatic," Nette says to me in the midst of my bemoaning. "It's not like we're never going to have sleepovers anymore."
I roll my eyes at her, not wanting to admit that she is right. Still, now that she's engaged I can't help thinking back over our friendship.
I still remember the night Nette and I met. It was literally one minute after my mother had pulled out of the Mayfield parking lot, leaving me on my own for the first time at college. I heard footsteps following me on the way back to Mayfield, turned around, and there she was, all gung-ho to say "Hello! Who are you!" to me. We were neighbors on the Up New hall. I remember greeting her in the dim light of the hallway as we both left for breakfast and early morning classes. I was a little shy, but decided I liked her after I saw the books on her bedroom shelf. As the daughter of an English teacher, I never stop looking at what books people own. From what I could tell, Nette had reasonably good taste.
We had Wellness together, and planned our work outs to coincide with each other's schedule. The weight room was a scary place for me, full of sweating, testosterone crazed males. I rarely went without Nette because I hated working out alone in front of all those boys. One day, after pushing the little metal bar up and down to help "tone my biceps," I stood up and flexed my sore arms in front of the mirror.
"Somebody call the vet 'cuz these puppies are sick!" I declared. According to Nette, this when she knew we were going to be friends. I think that's also when the guys in the weight room decided I was crazy.
Nette and I eventually moved from Up New to Up Old, where we were neighbors again. After some convincing on Nette's part, (I believe she calls it "the time when I wooed you") we moved in together as roommates the next year. This is when our friendship began in earnest because every single day we made memories together. In my mind's eye I can see Nette giggling as I collapse on my side of the room saying "Oh bed, how I have missed you," and I hear myself teasing her for her obsession with NCIS (I have since been converted). Like all girls, we talked about boys, and even now Nette can say one name that will make me giggle uncontrollably. I loved being her roommate, and I especially loved grabbing her cell phone and talking to whomever was on the other end without provocation.
In every friendship there is, of course, an argument. Ours began because I went for a barefoot walk one day to smell magnolias. For weeks my friends had driven by some magnolia bushes on our way to church, and I kept asking them to stop so that I could get out and smell the flowers, but they refused. I finally decided to go by myself and smell to my thrilled nose's content. Later, I took Nette down there with me.
"I love magnolia bushes!" I said, burying my nose in the flowers.
"Rach, I'm pretty sure these are trees," Nette said. I eyed the bush in front of me.
"No, Nette, that one over there is a tree, and this one is a bush."
"No, it's a tree. It's going to end up just like that other one."
"But it's a bush right now," I said. We drove off a few minutes later, both still trying to get the last word in. To this day, we drive by that bush and Nette insists on calling it a tree. I'm hoping she will someday see the error of her ways.
Despite this little spat of ours, now that Nette is engaged I find myself happy and sad. Happy because she is marrying her best guy friend, which is exactly how it should be. Sad because those wonderful days of staying up late watching NCIS and falling asleep in the same room are now over. Regardless, Nette and I will always be friends, and she will always be my favorite ex-roommate.
Love this :) Glad to hear she managed to convert you to NCIS :D
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