When I found out I’d be sharing a dorm room with Alex, I was thrilled. Alex and I had hit it off pretty quickly during our first year at college. We met in an intro to psychology class and bonded over our shared love of 90s rock music and late-night coffee runs. So when we realized we’d both signed up for the same dorm the following year, it seemed like fate.

Moving in with Alex felt like the start of a great year. We already had a rhythm together—studying, hanging out, grabbing dinner. There was a comfort in knowing that we liked a lot of the same things and could easily spend hours talking about everything from music to philosophy.

Living with Alex was, for the most part, easy. We had similar routines, and we respected each other’s space. We’d stay up late watching movies or listening to albums from start to finish, discussing the lyrics like they were poetry. I liked that we didn’t have to try hard around each other. Everything felt natural.

But as the weeks turned into months, I started to notice little things that began to wear on me. For one, Alex was incredibly laid-back—too laid-back, at times. While I appreciated the chill vibe most of the time, it became frustrating when it came to keeping the room tidy. I’m not a neat freak by any means, but Alex had a tendency to let things pile up. Dirty dishes would linger for days, and laundry would overflow from the hamper onto the floor. I’d find myself picking up after Alex more often than I wanted to, feeling a bit like a parent rather than a roommate.

Another thing was Alex’s habit of bringing people over without much warning. I liked that Alex was social and that we had a steady stream of friends coming by, but sometimes I just wanted to have a quiet evening to myself. There were nights when I’d be in the middle of an assignment or just winding down, and suddenly the room would be filled with people. Alex would always give me a sheepish grin, saying, “I hope you don’t mind,” and I’d smile back, even though, deep down, I kind of did.

And then there was the noise. Alex had a habit of playing music or videos without headphones, often late into the night. I knew Alex didn’t mean to be inconsiderate; they just got lost in their own world and forgot that someone else was sharing the space. I’d lie in bed, trying to fall asleep while a podcast played at full volume or a playlist blared through the speakers. I didn’t want to be the nagging roommate, so I usually just put in earplugs and let it slide.

But the thing that bothered me the most was how easy it was for Alex to brush off responsibilities. We both had agreed to split chores and take turns doing things like taking out the trash or cleaning the bathroom. Yet, more often than not, I’d end up doing these things myself because Alex had “forgotten” or was too busy hanging out with friends. It wasn’t a huge deal, but it started to feel like I was the only one putting in the effort to keep our space livable.

Despite these annoyances, I couldn’t bring myself to really get mad at Alex. I genuinely liked them—they were funny, kind, and we had a good time together. I knew they weren’t being intentionally difficult. But as the semester wore on, I realized that liking someone as a friend didn’t always translate to being perfectly compatible as roommates.

Eventually, I decided to talk to Alex about how I was feeling. One evening, after another impromptu gathering in our room, I asked if we could chat. I was nervous, not wanting to create any tension between us. But Alex was understanding, nodding as I explained my concerns. They apologized, admitting they hadn’t realized how much their habits were affecting me.

After that conversation, things improved. Alex made an effort to be more mindful about noise and cleanliness, and I tried to be more flexible about the social stuff. We didn’t become the perfect roommates, but we found a balance that worked for both of us.

Looking back, living with Alex was a lesson in compromise and communication. I still liked them a lot—more, even, after we learned to navigate living together. It wasn’t always easy, but we came out