Feeling delapidated

I vividly remember my college roommates. There were quite a few. I'll categorize them into the marathoners and the passers by.

The passers by are my most interesting group. I lived with a former UF sorority girl who was the angriest drunk you have ever met. A northern girl who was tough as nails, owned the first Prada bag I had ever seen, and could eat all the cheese fries in the world (hyperbole) without damaging her 105lb frame.

Some were nightmares. There was my freshman year roomie who dropped trow and peed on our dorm floor after taking drugs from a random stranger. (Shockingly, she was booted from the school after I discovered her in our bathroom, mid-suicide attempt.) Her replacement was a neurotic girl who stored cold pizza in her dresser drawers and listened to OAR incessantly. And who can forget the former Miss Teen Arizona (seriously) and her Britney Spears fetish.

At the time it was horrible- but today I keep them on file as funny little anecdotes.

Then there are my marathoners. The two girls that were my steadfast roommates-- steadfast friends. I honestly do not think I would have survived that first crazy semester at college without Liz. We were actually suit mates (which meant we lived across the hall from each other and shared a bathroom) and didn't live together until sophomore year- and then every year after. Some of my favorite memories are with this girl-- me eating sushi for the first time, the first time she ate a hamburger, Gainesville trips, shopping, the beach, et cetera. She remains one of the most important people in my life to this day.

The other is Ashley. My original roommate. We come from entirely different backgrounds. Never in a million years would you have put the two of us together. Her a conservative Baptist girl that was, and still is, as southern as grits. She said things like "ya'll" and "mmmmm mm! Tim McGraw!" The first time I had collards was at her house for Thanksgiving. It was always a cultural experience when I was with Ashley.

These two girls have ultimately shaped who I am today, and how I look at friendship. There was a time in my life when they were my rock(s). I'm afraid to say the last time we all got together was July-- and we live within 40 miles of each other.

Ashley was recently diagnosed with Leukemia. I feel like something inside of me broke when I found out.

She recently celebrated her 23rd birthday.

She's the eternal optimist and claims that it's totally under control, they caught it early, and is just as happy as ever. At least that is the message she conveys from the e-mails she sends me from the hospital.

I'm going to see her tomorrow, and I feel so weak. Will I be able to keep myself together (for Gods sake!) if she has lost her hair? I'm not very strong when it comes to this stuff.

College seems like so long ago. I am deeply missing those days right now. I am reminded of how I am not entitled to this life I lead...