A Bad First Impression?

So I haven't posted for a while.

I thought it would be kind of cool to devote a whole day, or rather a whole post in a day, for each of the close friends I am lucky enough to have in my life right now. I'm not sure any of them actually read this, so consider it a random act of kindness. After all, they've showered me with so many acts of kindness. It's the least I can do to repay them. I'll still post other random thoughts, but this is my project over the next few weeks. I hope I don't disappoint. Or forget.

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I met Preston freshman year of college. I remember seeing him for the first time a ways off, and the first thought that came to mind was, "Holy crap, Roger Federer goes to my college!" Now for all of you who have no idea who that is, he is the best tennis player in the world and, therefore, my idol. Of course, I knew he wasn't really attending my college, but from a distance, Preston looked almost exactly like him.

Now, of course, you would think I would be able to contain myself when introducing myself for the first time. Boy, are you wrong. It was probably the most awkward minute or so of my life: "Hey, I'm Cole. I know you probably don't even know who I'm talking about, but I'm just letting you know that you look almost exactly like Roger Federer. He's my favorite tennis player."

You should've seen his face. It had, "You're a freak," written all over it. If memory serves correctly, he said something witty and then turned and walked briskly in the opposite direction.

Now here is where you would think I'd get some sense and go off to ruin more first impressions. Wrong again. Instead, I chased after Preston and continued to try and have a conversation with him for the next hour or so during The O Show. I was so excited that I was able to sit right next to him. I had realized that I had made a horrible first impression, but instead of letting it fade quietly, I blabbed nonstop throughout the whole show.

I didn't see him much after that. We lived on the same hall, but we barely said a word to one another. If we ever crossed paths, we might've nodded in acknowledgement, but that was it. "Friends" is not the word I would've used to describe us. At all. Until the fateful night of World War III.

For those of you who know my previous roommate, Ethan Hutton, you all realize that at times, he can be a little... eccentric. Especially when you've never met someone like him before. Well this was my first experience with Ethan's uniqueness, we'll call it, and at times, I'll admit I was a little scared. One night he suggested we go and play a little prank on Adam and Preston, and, being the wonderful, brilliant, and procrastinating freshman that I was, I didn't object. He told me to bring along my little video camera, and after making some pretty interesting arrangements, I knocked on their door. I shoved my way inside and went to the opposite wall, turned on my camera, and waited. Another knock soon came. Slightly confused at my forced entrance, Preston opened the door yet again to find Ethan standing there with a wicked grin on his face. He slowly walked into the room... and began his striptease. Yes, you heard me correctly: his striptease. You should've seen Preston's face. I used to have the video, but due to Ethan's pleading, I had to delete it. Preston was so shocked he didn't know what to say, think, or feel. It was hilarious.

Well, to cut this short, Ethan was chased out of the room. However, he came back, this time armed with stress-reliever Nerf brains. Preston and I barricaded ourselves in the bunk beds, Adam in his closet, and we battled until Ethan and Adam had their own little tug-of-war thing going with a belt. We decided to call it a draw. Preston's and my friendship had officially begun.

We began to hang out more and more. We studied Geography, raced in Mario Kart, and sort of tamed the thing they call Jake. In February, to my complete surprise and joy, Preston asked if I would room with him the next year. I was ecstatic. We finished out the semester and left our freshman year of college, excited to come back in the fall. The rest is history.

So what is so special about Preston? Where do I begin? Well, for starters, the biggest mistake people make when they meet Preston is assume that he's an arrogant pessimist who has no emotions and expresses no feelings. Not everyone makes this judgment error, but I've heard it from many. I'm here to set that record straight. Preston is not like that at all. If you're convinced that you have Preston figured out, you are horribly wrong. You obviously haven't taken the time to get to know him. Preston is a lot more complicated than you think. He knows the sadness of defeat. He's experienced the pain of loss. He's been through the agony of heartbreak. And what has all of this done to him? No, it hasn't hardened him into a heartless wretch. No, it hasn't turned him into a cynic who refuses to show emotion or feeling. On the contrary, it's formed him into a very mature young man, and this in itself is the quality that I admire most about him. The level of poise with which he handles the great amounts of stress in his life is second to none. The way he deals with tough and awkward situations is, dare I say it, artistic. And while his brush might quiver at times, his hand remains firm and focused. His articulate stroke  he weaves throughout his life is simply one of genius and strength. The ability he has to juggle his family, his education, his presidency, and his friends all equally is simply unbelievable. I've never met someone who had so much pressure on them, yet handled that pressure so flawlessly. I'm sure it doesn't feel flawless to him, but that's another thing about Preston that is so unique: his unwillingness to burden others. To some, this may seem like arrogance to accept help. To me, it's attention to detail and a dogged determination to be the best person he can be. Of course, I've had the pleasure of rooming with Preston for seven months now, and will get that pleasure again for another school year, so not many people know him like I do. This is one of the many reasons I am thankful for Preston: he's put an unfaltering trust in me, a trust that few others have shown. It takes time to get to know Preston. But when you finally get there, it's well worth the wait.

So thank you, Preston, for giving me another chance. Through this whole process, I've learned that people really do get second chances. What we do with those chances decides whether we gain a friend or not. In our case, anyway. And I can say for certain that I've gained something more than just a friend. You're a part of me now, and whether you like it or not, you'll always remain an important piece of my life. More so than I think you can understand.