My beloved Moffitt,
I’ve heard the news. Did you not think I was going to find out? After all, word flies quickly around here — you know this. So why, Moffitt, why did you not come to me directly? I thought what we had was special but apparently the feeling isn’t mutual. Now I’m left sitting here in the depths of despair wondering why you felt like you couldn’t have come to me for guidance. You’ve helped me through some large tasks — I’m talking about group projects and essays. I mean, I had to learn about your little issue through The Daily Californian! And to think I was there for you when no one else was, it’s utterly ridiculous! I’ve spent long, hard nights with you, and for what? You’re beginning to feel like the first floor: cold.
I should have known better, though. You’ve always been a favorite among UC Berkeley students. You’re just a people-person. It seems as though it’s natural for you to accommodate and adjust to the likes of those around you. You can be outgoing when paired with extroverts on the fourth floor, yet quiet with introverts on the fifth. Don’t even get me started on your ability to tolerate different kinds of foods and drinks. Doe and Main Stacks have never been able to come out of their shell like you do. It’s always “you can’t bring that drink in here” and never “I hope you’re well-nourished.”
There’s something about your presence that’s just natural. I used to love that about you. I’m blushing at the very thought of the times we shared. However, now I’m bitter at the fact that the large number of students have seemingly ruined you, not externally but from within. It’s such a shame. I mean, it will be months before I get to see you again. I can’t imagine being apart from you for this long. It’s such a monstrosity! Earth-shattering! Like, the sky might as well fall right now because nothing can make this reality any worse than it is.
Perhaps I’m being melodramatic — a trait you’ve never once admired. It’s for the better though, right? It has surely been painful knowing that you’ll be gone for so long. I understand it’s for your own good … and mine. I just want you to know that I’m crumbling here without you, but I surely hope you won’t.
Contact Anyssa Torres at [email protected].