[m.olson]

So my college roommate lives (near) Pittsburgh now. She and I lived together for 3.5 years (one semester in Verder Hall at Kent State and 3 years in an apartment in East Akron). We saw each other through a lot. We fought and got frustrated with each other, we let each other down, we hurt each other. We laughed and cried and learned. Even when we don’t talk for a long time, it seems like it’s only been a few days.

Tonight she texted me about the movie Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. She recommended that book to me in 2005 and it’s been one of my favorite books since. I often recommend it to good friends who I know haven’t read it, mostly to see how they feel about the characters and ideas presented on it’s pages. Only one person who actually read it on my recommendation did anything to acknowledge their understanding of why it’s important to me. Daniel got me a key for Christmas and put it on a chain so I could always have it with me. I posted a photo of it here and I still believe it’s one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received. Sometimes it gets heavy, but I try to always wear it and remember that I may never find the lock to which it belongs, but that’s simply not the point.

Jen texted wanting to know what I’d thought of the film version of Extremely Loud when I saw it in early screenings in LA. The problem was I hadn’t make it to LA and won’t be seeing it until next Friday like everyone else who doesn’t live in New York or Los Angeles. We had a nice text conversation anyway, making plans for me to visit when I’m back east in April. I’ve missed her.

Living with someone is hard. I learned that living with Jen. I also learned that living with someone is easy. It’s hard to explain. No matter how well you do or don’t know a person, there is always going to be some sort of mystery there. We are always changing, always evolving, always shifting. We had some really rough times as roommates, but I can’t think of anyone else I would have rather lived with during those years. She may not be someone I see very often, or speak to on a regular basis, but she cares about my well being and knows me a lot better than many of my friends. Those kinds of friends are rare.

I posted on facebook a few weeks ago about being a Leslie Knope looking for my Anne Perkins. I was thinking of Jen when I wrote that. I identified as Leslie because I get a little crazy and really intense a lot of the time, and Jen was always the one to bring me down and make me look at things realistically. She was grounded for me when I couldn’t be. She made me pancakes and took care of me when I was sick or sad. She didn’t put up with my crap and made sure I knew when I was being ridiculous. I miss her like hell, especially now. I can’t wait to go look at the silver clouds with her and wander around Pittsburgh.