I’m laying on my bed desperately trying to figure out how we ended up here.  How did I end up in love with my ex-roommate and best friend?  When did I lose the general ability to think about anything but her?  When did it start to feel like this when our eyes meet, like I can’t breathe, like nothing else exists?

I remember the first time we met.  It was more than two years ago at freshman registration.  We had been e-mailing with each other on this roommate finder that our college of choice provided.  She seemed pretty cool from that, a little more girly than I am, but she had good taste in music which was an obvious criteria that had to be met.  You can tell a lot about a person by the kind of music they like. 

When we met, I was kind of covert as to the fact that I was the girl she had been chatting with.  I wanted to check her out from a distance and see if she was really someone I wanted to live with.  Spencer was really sweet.  She was kind of shy and hard to draw out, but once I paid her enough attention she started to relax.  I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember being absolutely charmed by her general presence.  Something about her soft persona meshed well with my tough attitude.

As I was getting in my car at the end of the day, I saw her adorable blonde hair bouncing around as she sped walked through the large parking lot in what appeared to be a mild panic.  I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when I realized from the way her head was whipping around that she didn’t remember where she had parked, and was afraid to have lost her car.  Was it then that I started to fall for her, was I that naive to not realize it?

We requested to be roommates with each other after a few more emails, sarcastic banter included.  I could never live with a girl who didn’t get my bitchy sarcasm and find it amusing.  When our housing letters arrived at our respective houses towards the end of the summer, I was both shocked and crestfallen to see that her name was not listed as my roommate.  A few short days later, I got a frantic call from none other than Spencer.  Though upset about the obvious mix-up by the college, she never cursed, not once.  I noticed.  I was flattered that she so badly wanted to live with me, even though we hardly knew one another.  Several calls with the college got the situation resolved.  I later found out that Spencer had cried on the phone with the Residence Life office before they agreed to switch roommate assignments.  Can I just say?  Thank God.  My other assignment wanted to get a bean-bag chair instead of a futon.  Just how are those comparable?