Thursday, February 22, 2024

A breakup letter to Hubbard Hall

February 27, 2020
Elijah McKown leaving his his room in Hubbard Hall on February 26, 2020.
Elijah McKown leaving his his room in Hubbard Hall on February 26, 2020. —
Photo by Connor Desilets | The State News

Dear Hubbard Hall, 

I wish I could be writing this letter under better circumstances. The old cliché is, “It’s not you, it’s me.” I wish I could tell you that was the case, but in reality, it is because of you. 

When I first wrote about you, we were simply in the infatuation stage of our relationship. I was young, immature and unaware of what I wanted. I thought what I wanted was the traditional dorm experience, but you quickly made me realize there are better fish in the sea. 

I won’t lie to you — distance was a problem. The long walks from work and class every day over the recent weeks have become too much. I thought, as a former long-distance runner, the walks would be a breeze. But as the days got colder, and the assignments got bigger, it has become too much. I know you cannot help where you were built, I don’t blame you for it, but it is something I can no longer deal with. 

Despite my own issues, I want to be honest with you and your faults, because I think you deserve the chance to improve upon yourself. First off, who designed you? Not in terms of architecture, but rather the interior. The 11th floor hallway starts off with a light teal, then a puke green, then pink? To say the least, your choice of wardrobe throughout our relationship was highly questionable. 

Also, I have never have been on a sketchier elevator ride in my entire life. Every time I got on, I honestly feared for my life. Not just because of the weird creaks and moans your elevators would make or even the crazy amount of people I have seen get stuck inside, but because of the things that would occur inside of them. Walking into a fresh pile of vomit in the corner, Sparty’s chicken tenders scattered across the floor and, for whatever reason, a Supreme sticker stuck to the ceiling, quite honestly made me feel like I might catch a newly-developed plague. 

Lastly, the water you provided me with was, frankly, not even usable. I used a water filter at the beginning, but after testing the pH levels with the toll that was provided, I realized that putting that liquid into my body was not a healthy practice. 

However, one thing I will miss is your Sparty’s. The ease of access to hot food and my combo that comes with our relationship will be a big loss for me. Also, I will still forever cherish our moments together down in the basement studying. You provided me a comfort level that I’m not sure any other building could have provided better during my freshman year. 

Throughout all of this, I do hope that one day we can still be friends. I hope that I can come back and you can make me those delicious chicken tenders that got me through finals. Or maybe I can even head on down to the basement to study, just like the good old days. I hope by then, you clean up the puke in your third elevator and make yourself a better residence hall. 

When my friends try to tear you down and make it seem like you meant nothing to me, I will defend you through thick and thin. Not because some of the rumors about you might not be true, but because you will always hold a special place in my heart. You were my training wheels, you made my freshman experience a fun one, and I cannot thank you enough for that. If there is one thing I ask of you Hubb-Nasty, just always remain true to yourself.

Your friend now and always, 

Eli McKown

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