When you put a minimalist and a maximalist in a room together at 18 and tell them to make the arrangement work, it makes no sense that ours did. For four years, we inhabited two different Cornells, but we worked as roommates because we both wanted to create the same Cornell: a place where you can be both soft and strong, thriving and hurt, grounded in your being and terrified of your becoming.
In February, my roommate and I found two boys who were also roommates. We lived in the same dorm, so it was easy to sneak into their room for smoke sessions and late-night conversations when the weekends came. Little did I know that the cute relationship we had would get fucked because of one person who pushed things a little too far. At the time, we were a strong group of four, and between all of us the sexual tension was manageable. But one night, only one of the guys, LG, came over to our room to chill.