“Kindred Spirits: The Story of Tracy and Me”

16 January 2024, the First Encounter 

“Hi, it’s Tracy,” the message read, timestamped at 13:43. 

“Alright, I’ll save your number,” I replied. 

“I’m about to take my things now… When do you want to meet for dinner?” 

“Is 8 pm okay?” I asked, knowing they usually open from 7 pm to 9 pm. 

“Perfect,” she responded. 

That was the first WhatsApp conversation I had with her. Now, as I look across the room, my heart swells with happiness. There she is, absorbed in a novel on her Kindle, unaware of my watchful eyes.  

Our meeting was one of those serendipitous, beautiful encounters. Coming down from the student apartment with a bag full of trash, I had just finished cleaning my room. I was heading out to dispose of the trash and pick up lunch from Mensa. That’s when I saw her, standing by the reception desk, a pink suitcase by her side. “Oh, it’s a black girl,” I mused. “Could she be my new roommate?” My mind buzzed with anticipation.  

Curious. Happy. Uncertain. 

“Hi,” I greeted her with a smile as I passed by, and she returned the gesture. I have this habit of smiling at strangers, especially black people. It might sound odd, but my intentions are pure. I aim to make them feel acknowledged, especially in unfamiliar environments, because I know what that’s like. 

After disposing of the trash and queuing for food, our smiles met again, and we started a conversation. I was eager to find out if she knew her room assignment and the possibility of us being roommates. She was unsure but appeared receptive to the idea. She awaited the keys to her yet-to-be-disclosed room and although I offered to keep her company, she politely declined, not wishing to inconvenience me. 

Back in my room, I hoped for a text from her, confirming she had received her keys and that we’d be roommates. When the message finally arrived, it wasn’t what I expected. She had her keys and her room, but it wasn’t the same as mine. I was a tad disappointed yet thrilled to have made a new friend. In the days that followed, we began texting to meet for lunch at Mensa, something I seldom did alone. There was a newfound excitement about these meals as we chatted and got to know each other.  

Friendship Blossoms 

“You, see? Now you have a friend, and just like that, you’ll be able to do so many things,” my loved ones exclaimed when I shared my excitement about Tracy my new friend and our aspirations to become roommates the following year. Despite the uncertainty of its feasibility, we stayed hopeful, finding common ground in many areas. Little did I know that day would approach sooner than anticipated. After numerous discussions about our future endeavours, she responded to my voice note with enthusiasm, “You’re talking about READING!!! GIRL, WE ARE GOING TO BE SISTERS!!!”

The uncertainty lingered as I moved my belongings into her room, which now also became mine. Yet, the smile and embrace she offered upon her return from university that day calmed my doubts. Indeed, we were to be sisters, beautiful sisters. But the question loomed: could I sustain this sisterhood? Would my inner demons emerge, frighten her away, and shatter everything? I was unsure. 

When my predicted demons surfaced, it was dire. To preserve the positivity of this post, I encourage you to read the story titled “Crying with a Stranger,” where I detailed the events and how Tracy and I navigated a challenging chapter in my life. It was a difficult period, filled with insecurities and fears that threatened our bond, (of which I am not sure she was aware) but ultimately, it remained intact. 

The weeks following that ordeal were remarkably serene. I found solace in my friend’s presence, who never seemed like a stranger. We indulged in movie nights, forged memories like making popcorn together—her first time—and revelled in the novelty of these shared ‘firsts,’ which made me feel cherished. We also enjoyed shared dinners, spontaneous hugs, and cosy tea sessions. 

And just like that, we crafted a home within this student apartment, a sanctuary that beckons us back after taxing days at the university and outside. Through exchanged messages and well-wishes, we’ve built this haven, and I couldn’t be prouder. So, here’s my toast, albeit without a glass of champagne: 

Here’s to Tracy. I’m indebted to that January evening when I stepped out to discard the trash. Your radiant beauty and heartfelt smile inspired me to say hello. While I’m naturally inclined to smile at people, especially those who share my heritage, you were exceptional. Dining together at Mensa, you encouraged me to socialize and step out of my comfort zone. I cherish our one-time Saturday reading session at McDonald's, which I eagerly hope we continue. Your unwavering support to complete “A Little Life,” a novel that stirred profound emotions, is something I hold dear. 

 I treasure our impromptu check-ins and the distinctive ‘Itaglish’ dialect we’ve cultivated—a seamless blend of Italian and English. The comfort of being my true self in your company is a gift beyond measure.  

The future remains a mystery, and I don’t know what it holds for us, and as you often say, “God really let us meet for a reason.” Whatever that reason may be, I am profoundly grateful for you and the vulnerability you’ve embraced, which is worth a thousand reasons. I’m keen to navigate all that lies ahead with you as a friend and sister. You’ve evolved from a mere acquaintance to a treasured confidant.  

Life’s journey can be tumultuous, yet it’s less daunting with the right companions. I aspire to be one of those individuals for you, walking alongside you every step of the way. 

💡 and ❤️

Hannah Grace Imordi