Monday, February 28, 2011

you can't trust anyone. not even your own memory.

All semester, I have been watching my freshman roommate sit in the front row of my Happiness class.  She sits between another girl I know and her on-again-off-again boyfriend.

Every once in a while, I would see her and remember freshman year: things like the time she made me get her laundry out of the dryer because she didn't want to have to put on a shirt and pause Gilmore Girls (the same episode she had watched three times that day). I would see her hair and remember what her shampoo smelled like and how she used to leave her wet towels on the floor.

And then today, as I was talking to my professor about next year, she waved, said goodbye and pushed her boyfriend (who is in a wheelchair- she doesn't just shove people around willy nilly) out the door. And as she left, I saw that her backpack said "Chelsea" and heard that her voice was not my ex-roommate's voice at all. This was not my roommate. I have never spoken to this girl, let alone slept in the same room with her. This was a stranger who looked, acted and DATED exactly like my freshman roommate.

Two things:
  1. You can't trust anyone. Even if you think you used to share a bathroom. Because you probably didn't.
  2. Doppelgangers freak me out.

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