I also had a bigger bed in my room. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I had my room and the big bed in it because “Abed’s room” also functioned as the guest room. I picked up on this only after many a visitor’s bags would be promptly placed in my room upon arrival. It partially explained why I was consistently pressed to keep my room clean.

When I was in the 7th grade my sisters got into one of their weekly fights and the younger of my sisters threatened to move out of their shared room and into what used to be my dad’s dental office downstairs. The room hadn’t served that purpose for a few years, so it made sense to convert it and make use of it, though it was pretty tiny. I was enjoying my daily dunk contest on the mini-basketball hoop that hung from my closet door when I was summoned to move my sister’s bed from her current room to what would be her new room. I was impressed that she actually lived up to her threat of getting her own room.

Many years later, as a sophomore in college I got a phone call from the same sister I helped move.

“Hey, I’m moving into your room, you can have mine.”

“Cool.”

So here I am at home sitting in a room with lavender walls that I never thought would be mine during a spring break that I never thought would come.

Keeping a blog is great because it forces me to put what I’m thinking into words and onto paper. I’ll write on a variety of subjects, ranging from Islam to interfaith dialogue and from politics to what little I know about love.

But while I can tell you how I made it to this room I’m in right now, articulating the road my friends and I took to get to this marker so close to graduation is difficult. Even harder is trying to figure out why and how it was decided to take that road. If you’re a member of the Class of 2008 anywhere, your mind and mine might be at similar places. What did all those things, big and small, mean over the past few years? Why do my friends still even like me? Right now, the questions facing college seniors annoyingly outweigh the answers.

The closest I could get to an answer is from an article written by one of my favorite writers, Matt Brochu, formerly of The Daily Collegian. He writes:
“Some things do happen for a reason. There's a reason you guys are next to each other in that picture of the human pyramid, both before and after the fat kid made it collapse…God, or Buddha, Celine Dion, or whomever you count on to give you faith when your personal stock has all but run out, put these people on earth just for you…and know that there's a pretty good reason you wouldn't have it any other way.”