I had been sitting with a close friend of mine on our university campus in an outside patio, feeling confident and indignant despite being unprovoked. In a few short minutes, it would be the first time that Madeline (my soon-to-be roommate) and I could spend time together discussing our expectations for the year ahead. I had been carefully preparing, debating how I might best present myself with an aura that could effectively intimidate Madeline. I had just spent a year living with women who seemed to have a knack for preying on the weaknesses of others, and used them to manipulate and bully. Righteously angry and unwilling to compromise, I hoped to show Madeline that intimidating me was impossible, and I was uninterested in the façade of pleasantries.
When Madeline arrived at our table, she was exactly the girl I expected, and the complete opposite of me: bubbly, exuberant, and sweet. We walked together to a popular coffee shop just outside the borders of campus, and her demeanor quickly changed in response to my deliberately hostile tone. As we chatted over coffee and tea about our past and how we hoped to see our future, it became increasingly clear that the year ahead might prove difficult. She was relaxed about her expectations for a roommate, while I had clear and distinct boundaries I demanded her to follow. The contrast between our styles, beliefs, and attitude was stark: we were polar opposites. She left our conversation apprehensive of a friendship with me, and I left knowing that I had accomplished my goal.
However, as time wore on, our relationship began to shift. It was about a month into living together, and Madeline was the last one home. The anniversary of my mother’s passing, September 27, was nearly over. I was sprawled on the couch, tissues crumpled on the floor and my laptop open to a photo album entitled “Mom and I.” All day had been a transition from the bed to the couch and back again. My face was tear-soaked and swollen, and I was having difficulty focusing on anything in front of me. Outside our apartment I could hear Madeline struggling to fit her keys into the lock, and the crash of heavy bags falling to the floor as she worked to open the door. Swinging our front door open, she shouted “Fall Haul!” and bounced over to me on the couch. She embodied everything I wasn’t in that moment, and perfectly provided the light to my darkness, the energy to my lethargy. Out of her bags, she began to describe each item one by one, all pumpkin-flavored, and all for me. First the pumpkin eggnog, then the pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin pop-tarts, pumpkin yogurt…a seemingly endless array of treats that reminded me both of the things I love, and how loved I am.
Madeline’s gesture softened me, and I sobbed violently into her arms. She allowed me the space to cry when I needed to cry, and she brought me joy on a day that might otherwise prove to be the worst of my year. Although uncomfortably new at first, it was our differences that allowed her to see past my walls and care for me in ways that others hadn’t. It is our differences that have allowed us to engage in debates and share our viewpoints with one another in the hopes of learning something new. And it is our differences that create a constant and beautiful tension between the known and the unknown, the familiar and the unfamiliar. Our friendship is dynamic, continuously shifting into territories I haven’t explored in other relationships, and I’m both excited and honored to walk through life with someone like Madeline.
A Composition of Self by Alexis Rivera 
Hi Alexis, I really enjoyed reading what you have so far. I loved your introduction and how you jumped right into the story, a particular setting. Reading this an hearing your comments inspired me to change up my introduction a bit to fit your approach. In such a short amount of time I think you were able to beautifully develop yourself and your roommate as characters in your story and I was able to sense the evolution that occurred between the two of you. The story about the “Fall Haul” that you chose to highlight was heartwarming and fitting for your topic, I would love to read another short story inside your essay maybe in the final draft. I really like the way you conclude your thought with stating that you are excited and honored to walk through life with someone like Madeline, it shows that there is more to come in your future as friends. I think you have really nailed the ideas of the personal essay, cannot wait for the next draft!
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I agree with Chloe’s urging to bring in another “story within the story” of how the line drawn in the sand between you and Madeline became erased so that now there is not distance between the two of you, but rather a very reliable bond. Maybe that word “reliable” is key. She proved herself to be a reliable and consistent person (perhaps two qualities that your life was missing in terms of the people left in the world.) Madeline ended up being the breath of freshness that you needed, but who would’e known that this person whom you had wanted to keep at a casual distance would end up being a person who could collapse the walls of protection you’d built up around yourself.
We never know where our best friends come from – we actually con’t pick them, but rather some mysterious force brings un into each other’s paths for a reason. That reason may last for only a season, or it may last a lifetime.
I’ve learned that some of the greatest strength and support I’ve received in my lifetime is from people I didn’t expect it from – and then the people I did expect if from somehow, for whatever reason, didn’t really come through. And, I learned to be grateful for what came, no longer caring about who let me down, but rather who picked me up.In this way I ended up not let down at all, but rather uplifted by just the right person or people who were meant to be angels in my life – if even briefly.
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