My Former Future Roommate

Alternate Titles: Music is Her Love Language, My Mary 

Ours is, in many ways, an unlikely friendship. Somewhat akin to a friendship between a cuckoo bird and a tiger. 

I talk nonstop and require constant attention. I love to cuddle and will unabashedly request a back massage. Despite my best attempts, I leave my shit all over the place. She, on the other hand, is a cool cat. She is completely unphased by silence or personal space and she keeps her side of the room systematically tidy. While you can find me listening to an objectively odd mix of broadway showtunes and coldplay, she frequents intimate concerts and discovers new indie artists before they blow up. I have cried in front of her more times than I would like to admit here; I’ve seen her cry 3 or 4 times over the course of our 4 year friendship. 

For a long time, I didn’t know if she liked me very much. I figured I might be a bit too loud, too touchy, and too messy to be her good friend. Spoiler alert: I was wrong. Mary loves me. In fact, I am quite confident that Mary loves me a lot – more than average for sure. 

I don’t know this because Mary suddenly became a hugger, a public cryer, or a relentless conversationalist; I know Mary loves me because she makes me playlists. Mary has picked out love songs, heartbreak songs, less-dramatic-heartbreak songs, friendship songs, photoshoot songs, travel songs, chill songs, birthday songs, and every other kind of song for me. I know Mary loves me because she has edited more of these blog posts than anyone else and because she let me copy her (very smart) approach to new year’s resolutions in the first place. Mary humors me: when I asked her if we could push our two twin beds together to form one large mega-bed (an utterly impractical decision in our small space), she not only said yes, but got to pushing. When I sadly admitted to her that I'd been daydreaming about a man, she laughed at me and said “Maggie, you’re only human! And he’s hot!” I know Mary loves me because she’ll play the glee version of Valerie and dance around the recording studio with me, even though her radio show is far too cool for that song.

Mary loves me without asking me to be more quiet, more contained, or more organized. To have Mary’s love is to have her acceptance, fully, consistently, and without question. It is like being emotionally embraced by her long skinny arms. I am struck by how excited I am to make my next move with her location in mind (doing the same with my ex had felt terrifying). As someone who seeks romantic love often, I am eternally grateful to have experienced platonic love as true as hers. It turns out I still have a lot left to learn about love… Lucky me, I have my Mary as an example.