A Tribute to 7D01

Dear Stuyvesant Park Residence Hall,

Thank you. I remember move-in day like it was literally this morning but in one of those days that drag on even after the third cup of coffee. After I finished unpacking my burnt orange suitcase, I immediately started decorating the walls and organizing my desk, already beginning to turn you into my home. That's what you are to me, home.

When you walk into 7D, you're in the kitchen, the place that I made oatmeal on Sunday mornings. The area that held Breads Bakery bags full of pastries until I was practically forced to use them as makeshift garbage bags out of pure laziness. The place that we surprised Eshita in on her birthday with big balloons and tiny cupcakes. The place where Kyle, Paul Madison, and I made the most insane challah french toast. The site that Isabelle, Colleen, and I attempted to capture Bethany (the adopted mouse that called our home hers) on multiple occasions, always failing worse than the time before.

To the right, you'll find the bathroom. I remember staring into the mirror above the sink for what felt like hours after I got my first tattoo, unable to process that there was a tiny plane forever on my left arm. I sang too loudly in the shower to Juice WRLD even after Colleen told me that he wasn't good (he's excellent Colleen you're missing out). I had my first college meltdown on the ledge of the bathtub because Isabelle "broke" me when in reality the wine was kicking in and I needed a good cry. Kyle and I broke the toilet paper holder while having an intense heart to heart, but he let me blame it on him. Thanks again, Kyle, you're a real friend. The bathroom was never clean; honestly, I don't mind leaving it.

To the left was our room. 7D01. I don't know where to start. The room was ever changing, to say the least. Colleen and Isabelle took to cleaning and rearranging when they were stressed, so it was never the same for longer than a few months, maybe weeks. The walls were decorated with strands of lights and photos of memories we didn't want to forget. Light flooded the room from the patio every morning, taking my alarm clocks place for nine months. We kept the window open most of the time for fresh air and fresh sound pollution from the constant ambulance sirens. On the patio, Siena and I sang Hamilton as loud and as passionately as possible, resulting in people from the street and below us to join in or shout profanity...could've been both at once. Too many explicit polaroids of my friends were taken on that balcony, it's quite strange how many. We hosted wine Wednesday each week, which was a made-up holiday that was celebrated with more anticipation than Christmas.

The daybed aka Riley's old bed was kept occupied by either Siena, Kyle, or Isabelle each night, always keeping Colleen and I entertained. We danced to Ariana Grande's album on repeat, occasionally tossing in a throwback to switch it up. Isabelle nursed me back to health in that room before she obtained my plague, resulting in me doing the same for her the next week. I stayed up until early morning writing papers about God knows what, but somehow managing an A or B. I broke up with my first love in that room and cried on the floor for hours. I woke up the next morning to a vase of flowers from my best friends, a symbol of new beginnings. I remember sitting with Siena and talking about boys, talking about love, and why we don't think we deserve it. As clear as day, I can still hear Isabelle insisting that she was voted most kind-hearted in high school when in fact she was homeschooled, so it doesn't count (even though she's very kind-hearted). The most vivid memory is of Colleen crying harder than I had ever seen anyone cry because she didn't want to leave us next year. God, she's going to be the best damn teacher to ever live. Kyle finally said, "I love you too" in that room, abruptly following with "fuck I didn't mean to say it" (he totally did). Many laughs were shared in that room. I wish I could muster up every memory and shove them into a jar, but there are too many, and I would be scared to lose them. Instead, I hold each of them in my heart. I hold each person in Stuy Park close to my heart because they are genuinely a part of my family.

To the next residents of 7D01, I don't know who you are, or if you'll ever stumble across this, but wow you are lucky. That room, that suite is filled with so much love and so many laughs. Take pride in calling that place your home because it will be move-out day before you know it. I know it just seems like four white walls, but the people that you share them with will paint them in new, brighter colors. I am not who I was when I laid my head down on my twin bed that first night. I have lost a lot since then, but what I have gained is worth every cent that I put into it, I've gained an entire family 1,200 miles away.