Oscar and his Owner

The other day I was looking at pictures of puppies in shelters, and I came across a boxer. In addition to being incredibly cute, he reminded me of my optometry school roommate's boxer. His name was Oscar, and I loved him.

I am less confident in my feelings about his owner. I just don't know what my life would have been like if I had never met her.

During the brief time our paths intersected, AL impacted me in unpredictable ways. It all started in botany class. I sat in the front row but off to the side; I placed my purse beside me to discourage anyone from sitting near me. AL walked in and sat at the opposite side of the table, and one of the first things that she said to me was that she liked my purse.

She continued to be friendly and chat with me. I hadn't taken any classes with her before, so her openness surprised me. She was blonde, thin, and pretty, a girl you knew was extremely popular in high school. I didn't expect someone like her to take any interest in a shy, less-fashionable girl like me. We started to study together in between classes, and I soon learned that AL was pursuing a career in optometry. She encouraged me to do the same.

Though I was less enthusiastic about the profession, I took the necessary entrance exam and did well enough that a school offered me admission that year, even though I had only completed three years of college. AL was headed to that school and invited me to be her roommate. For complex reasons I will probably detail in a future post, I accepted.

Things started out pretty smoothly. I had my own space in the apartment, although the furniture and appliances in the common areas all belonged to AL, and I sometimes felt awkward using them. AL's boyfriend moved in, as well, and they often fought. Sometimes they would argue over who needed to walk Oscar. To get out of the apartment, I'd grab his leash and take him myself.

Things changed socially at optometry school, as well. AL was a "cool girl" once more, easily making new friends. They didn't seem as interested in me, however, so sometimes AL would hang out with a group and not invite me. This probably wouldn't have bothered me so much if my depression and anxiety had not multiplied during this time. I was away from home for the first time, I was incredibly lonely, and I was also in a very dark place. 

One day, my roommate was supposed to take me to school. She had run out to the bank, and she texted me to let me know she decided to go to school instead of coming back for me. I'd need to drive myself to school. I was having an anxiety attack that morning, and with no one there to help me, I injured myself. When I made it to school, I discovered that AL was in a study group and had not invited me to join. I was hurt, but I realized then that my main support was back home.

Then again, sometimes home didn't help. When I announced to my family that I was leaving optometry school, some of them told me I was "giving up" and that I needed to "stick it out" for the full year. They made me feel worse about myself. I collapsed sobbing on my bathroom floor. AL heard me, and she rushed in to comfort me. She assured me that my life had to be my own and was not subject to anyone else's approval.

After I moved out, we slowly fell out of touch, and I no longer talk to AL. Every now and then things remind me of my time with her, and a mixture of emotions crashes over me. I was grateful for her kindness and friendship when it was unexpected. I was wounded when she excluded me. She set in motion the events that led me to optometry school, an experience that was both positive and negative in so many ways. What would I have done if I had not gone away to school? Would my life have been better or worse? Would I feel like a failure as often? Would I have gotten the help I so desperately needed for my illness?

These questions are, of course, impossible to answer, and someday I hope I can accept that. I hope also that AL is happy where she is and that Oscar is running around joyfully in puppy heaven.