Well it's pretty apparent by now that God put me in this place and time for my roommate. I don't really know what impact she realizes that I have on her life, but it's actually a big one. I don't freak out and add to her insanity, I don't get openly frustrated at her for being the maniac person she is (openly being the key word), and frankly, I'm just not that interested in her. Maybe that sounds harsh and not a good thing at all, but I think it's one of the best things I can do for her.
I think she needs to realize that she needs to be self-sufficient, more so than she's ever been. I can go on forever about her issues and how I define her, but when is she just going to relax? She could either have had a roommate with even less patience than me, who she'd absolutely be miserable with because she'd think they were just an asshole for not caring about her, or she could have someone as frantic and OCD as she is, which would only make both of their lives a hundred times worse.
So here I am. There are a hundred other places I'd rather be than in the same room with her, but it's why I'm here and it's what I have to do. It's Day 1 of the second semester and she's back to her usual freak-out self. I do wish that I had a roommate I could connect to and all, but this is what I'm here for this year. She gets a roommate who won't kill her, no matter how much she provokes me, and I get a lesson in self-control and understanding...
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