This is my third year at ACU, and in the past three years I’ve had three different roommates.

A perfect record! Or not, depending on how you look at it.

Each of my roommates has been extraordinarily different from the others and, more importantly, from me. My first was one of the snappiest dressers on campus, and yet our room was an absolute pigsty.

The second, whom I roomed with while studying abroad in Oxford, is one of the smartest guys I know, with a knowledge and love of the past that would shame many history professors. Yet even with an incredible aptitude for school, he still managed to completely fail at making a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

I’m not going to say anything about my current roommate, because he has the power to make my life completely miserable if I accidentally offend him.

I came to college knowing two other freshman males – a cousin and a best friend from my church back home. I could have roomed with either of those guys, but decided instead to go potluck, as I wanted to remain amiable with those two.

When I got the name of my new dorm roommate, the first thing I did was Facebook-stalk him.

After looking at his profile pictures and list of interests, I thought it would never work out – but we managed to survive the entire year together and remain good friends afterward.

I’ve had many wonderful memories with each of these guys, from traveling Europe together to games of beach volleyball and neck-and-neck Mario Kart races.

The best part of living with them, however, was the late night conversations we had. I’ve enjoyed several of these – many lasting long into the wee hours of the morning – where we discussed everything from politics, religion, classes and, most importantly, girls. (Maybe I should have said religion was most important … whoops.)

At the same time, different people have different opinions, and we had several. Sure we got angry, insulted each other and even walked out of the room a few times, but we always worked things out.

While I have at times considered my roommates to be immature, obtuse, self-righteous and hypocritical, I have always thought of them as good friends I could turn to whenever I needed a listening ear.

We all have someone we have to put up with: a professor, a sibling, the next door neighbor’s yapping chihuahua – or a roommate. But as bad as they may seem at times, I always try to remember that they also have to put up with me.