To The Monster Under My Bed…
It comes with great relief that I inform you we will no longer be rooming together next quarter. You may be asking yourself, ‘Where did I go wrong? What did I do?’ Well I’ll save you the hassle of trying to figure that one out and instead I’ll spell it out for you.
You’re no good for me.
Your lifestyle is so unhealthy and unsafe, that as soon as I felt myself becoming part of it, I wanted out. Research has shown that Roommates can rub their daily habits and lifestyle off on one another. By simply spending so much time around each other, roommates begin behaving and acting in similar ways without even consciously knowing it. With that being said, your lifestyle is one I can’t afford to have.
Your diet is on par with a 300 pound professional athlete, the only difference being you’re not an athlete. There were countless instances where I would find the carcasses and meats of god knows what creatures in the fridge. They not only took up majority of the fridge space, but made it wreak as well. I know it’s “part of your diet”, but I’m fairly certain Jenny Craig doesn’t have “eat entire chicken, bones and all” listed as the meal plan for Thursday nights. But that was only half of it. Remember the time when my mom sent us some home cooked food? I don’t, because by the time I got back to the room to eat some, the package had been shredded to bits and I found the remains of what I think was once lasagna. You ate all of my food! I said it was fine and we moved on, but the problems didn’t stop there.
On top of your horrendous eating habits, you drink like a sailor. I think it would be safe to assume water would get you more drunk than any alcohol ever could. I know you say it’s “not a problem”, but when I come home on a Wednesday night and find you crawling all over the floor like a serpent, it becomes my problem. Seriously. You were laying on the ground, covered in some liquid (presumably the alcohol) and you were just groaning and spitting everywhere. Who the hell does that? But once again, I tucked you into your bunk, and we put it behind us. It couldn’t possibly get any worse than this, right? Wrong.
To put it plain and simple, you’re a mess. Your emotional and mental state are so unstable, that just being around you makes me anxious. You constantly scream and growl with no reasonable cause, you rarely come out from the bottom bunk (at this point I would go as far as calling it a cave), and when you do decide to come out from hiding, all you ever do is mope around and bring everyone down. It’s almost like you’re intentionally trying to scare away everyone around you. The amount of times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night because I hear you scratching the bottom of my bunk is ridiculous. It’s like you purposely sleep all day just so you can terrorize me all night.
So to wrap this up and move on to next chapter of my life, I leave you with this.
I hope you find someone to match your crazy.
Even though we didn’t work out, I do care for you. While you were scary, messy, unhealthy, and just all around strange, there were times where I felt safer knowing I had you around. Knowing that I always had someone watching out for me (really more of just watching me) did give me a sense of comfort in a weird way. Plus the way you would always leave little extra scraps of your food in my bed for me was something that disgusted, but also flattered me. It showed you cared. It showed that while you may seem like a monster seeking isolation on the outside, you’re really just a freshman, just as scared as me, trying to fit in on the inside.
So to you and your future roommate, I wish you the best of luck. I hope you two find comfort in each others filth, horror, and crazy lifestyles. May you two have a long, healthy, unhealthy relationship.
Goodbye, Steve.