KILROY: Dear Myles

Today I walked into the College of Fine Arts for the first time. Why? I guess I could say I had a sudden urge to see the inside of a building that I had never seen before.

Why the delay? Ah, probably something to do with the smoke cloud that always seems to be hovering near the front door. On a windy afternoon, just walking alongside the building is unappetizing. I can’t imagine what it would be like to venture anywhere near the doors on those days.

But today I was on my way back from the gym when I noticed the smoking benches were uncharacteristically empty – perfect. Today, I, Meaghan Kilroy, was going to be introduced to CFA.

After passing the front doors, I immediately noticed that the walls were covered with paintings—not that that wasn’t to be expected; it is CFA. What struck me about the paintings though was one piece tucked in the corner right next to the elevators. It showed a small group of people sitting around a dining room table.

On first glance, it looked like any old table. But then I noticed something familiar in the background, the sheets of glass titled slightly above a salad bar of sorts – that glass really is a nuisance; if you want to reach the peanut butter and you’re not a contortionist, good luck. But back to the painting. It was of Myles’s dining hall! Or at least I think it was. I was told Towers and Shelton have a similar setup, but for the purposes of this column I’m going to say that it was Myles.

Oh, Myles. As silly as it sounds, I had a really hard time thinking of what to write for my final column, until I came across this painting. The whole ode to Myles thing had been floating around in my head for some time. However, I could never justify writing about one of BU’s dorms until I saw that it had already inspired a work of art – that painting.

So here  it goes – my love letter to Myles. Oh, the memories.

Dear Myles,

If you remember, our relationship started on the rocks. This time last year I preferred your charming, younger brother Shelton. Which reminds me, forget what your friends say. I was never into your brother Danielsen. Something about him always seemed so distant.

Anyway, as far as large BU dormitories go, I only have eyes for you, Myles.

I don’t remember when our love started. Now that I think about it, you’ve never really come out and said, “I love you, Meaghan.” Ah, well, you are the strong but silent type. I dig it.

Other reasons I dig you:

You’re easy on the eyes – and not just because the lighting is so dim.

Nah, you’ve got class. The chandeliers, the dark wood paneling . . . your brothers can’t rock dimly lit hallways, dusty ceilings, and an early 20th century vibe like you do, Myles.

You’re friends with all of my friends. It’s a fact, Myles. You’re great company. Heck, you’re the closest thing to home for my circle of friends.

Now, before you let all of this get to your head, remember that you are not without your faults. There were times this year when I really thought you were starting to fall apart. For one, you used to blackout – often. You are working on that though, which is good.

Also, the whole communication thing has been kind of a problem. Remember those fire alarms in the beginning? C’mon, Myles. Is that how you get a girl’s attention? Scream at her and throw her into the cold? No. It’s not.

Lucky for us though, you’ve always managed to pick up the pieces – that’s what I love about you, Myles. Or used to love . . .

Yeah, I’m sorry to do this to you, Myles. Up until now you thought you were reading a love letter, right? Awkward. This is a breakup letter. Here it goes:

Myles,

I think it’s time we went our separate ways. You’re changing. I’m changing. The large dorm thing just isn’t cutting it for me anymore. In the fall, I’ll be living on Bay State. And you’ll be, well . . . it already seems like I’m losing you to someone else – the Center for Student Services in East Campus. That’s right, the school told me; your dining hall is moving west. Really, Myles? If your heart wasn’t in the game, you should have just told me. We’ve always managed to pick up the pieces. Forgive and forget. That’s what it’s been with you. But this time around, the pieces aren’t just broken. They’re shattered.

That’s not to say that I’ll ever stop loving you. Come fall, I’ll still love you. I just won’t be in love with you.

I really do wish you all of the best. I’m sure I’ll see you from time to time. We go to the same school after all.

And don’t worry. I won’t go crawling back to Shelton. That would be extremely awkward considering our history. Also, I think he’s too busy wooing some of my friends.
Also, I stand by what I said before. I think I’m over the whole large dorm thing. I’m going to try my luck on Bay State. It may work out. It may not. We’ll see. It’s college.

So I guess this is goodbye then. Have a good summer . . . or try to. I know you don’t have air conditioning – you really should talk to somebody about that.

Take care,

Meaghan

Meaghan Kilroy is a sophomore in the College of Communication and a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at  kilroymeg@hotmail.com.