Her car’s packed (more like stuffed) outside, her toothbrush is the only thing left in the bathroom, and she’s made camp on the couch for her last night in town. She’s driven you half-crazy this semester. When you’re headed to work, she wants to lay on the couch. When she’s sleeping, you want to go out. And you both have secretly stolen each other’s food a time or two.
But suddenly, as you see her shoulders rising and falling in deep sleep, curled up under four blankets on the couch, you want to cry. Suddenly everything comes back to you, from that one time she almost destroyed her knee running and colliding with the first baseman, to your first lunch date. From the nights curled up on the couch, to the excruciatingly long team bus rides. She’s been there for it all—your totally stressed-out breakdowns to your I’m-so-happy-I-could-cry moments. And you couldn’t have survived college without her.
As you walk by her empty room, imagine your little pad without her, you realize all the things you’re going to miss.
You’ll miss just knowing she’s there.
You might have had your differences this semester, arguing over dumb things like money and girlfriends and boyfriends and school. But even when you weren’t really getting along, you knew she was just down the hall, just in the room over, just around the corner when you needed a vent session, someone to cry to, or even just a hug.
You’ll miss her towel on the rack.
And everything else that will leave when she does. Simple things, like the peanut butter you always stole from her shelf, or her shoes at the front step. You’ll miss the big things too, like her car in the driveway. Things will just feel weird. And you’ll feel weird.
You’ll miss all the things that drove you crazy.
Like how she always seemed to get to sleep hours before you did. You hated her for it. But now you’ll miss knowing her schedule—the afternoon naps, the Netflix marathons, the early bedtimes. And when you pull up Blue Mountain State on a lazy Saturday afternoon, it just won’t feel the same.
You’ll miss telling her about your day.
In-person rants are way better than over-the-phone rants. And seeing someone’s expression and sparkling eyes and laughter is way better than just hearing it. You could always call her, but you’ll miss the daily pre-dinner chats about the crazy work days and funny school moments.
You’ll miss the way things smell.
Like her shampoo or perfume, or lotion, or whatever she wore that always made her smell like her. She’ll take that scent with her and it just won’t be the same.
You’ll miss dinner dates.
Even if she did pick the tomatoes out of your pasta dish.
And you’ll miss the things you took for granted.
Like having your best friend two seconds away, a fellow Mexican-food-binge-eater, a buddy to go to soccer games with, and a partner in crime for lazy days. You definitely didn’t tell her enough, but you love her. And you’ll miss her…even if she stole your leftovers.
Republished on Thought Catalog.