Hello again! Don't mind me posting multiple essays (busy college-application prep season, isn't it?), but I'd like some feedback on this essay as well. The thing is, I feel this essay doesn't have the kind of top-grade vocabulary one would expect because this is something I wrote straight from the heart, rather than the mind (of course, I did keep in mind it was a college essay). Sometimes it gets a bit heavy, but they did want to know who I was and I think the best description of understanding who I am can be derived from understanding a certain history of my life.
Question : You are about to write your future roommate a letter. Please provide the roommate with a personal story that will give him/her some insight into your personality. (5000 characters limit, this is about 4959)
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I write this letter to my future roommate with the intention of him getting a better understanding of the kind of person I am.
About eleven years ago, I had joined the first grade in my present school, Dubai Modern High School; however, back then, it was just known as The Modern High School. I remember myself wiping off tears, as I had bid farewell to my kindergarten friends the previous day in a different school, and entering the classroom of 1A.
I had a best friend. His name was Max, though sometimes I'd call him Maxi just to tease him (though later on, it became a habit). I met him for the first time around the same time I had just joined my new school. The moment we met, I believed that we had this instant connection; that we were destined to be best friends. It sounds far-fetched for a five or six year old kid, but it was true. Max and I were to be the best kind of friends ever. I remember once I was crying rather uncontrollably after I accidentally hit a classmate on my first day (I meant to hit a fly, but, well, he came in the way). Max was there in my room with me. I did not know if I could cry in front of him, but at that time, I did not understand the concept of pride or ego, so I simply cried. And Max simply listened, silently, to my sobs. I thought I would feel shy crying in front of him, but I really did not. Hence began our wonderful friendship, that was to last a lifetime.
I still remember when I was awarded the Azeem Scholar Award for excellence in academics in fourth grade. I ran home with such excitement! My parents were so proud of me. Maxi was there and he, too, was incredibly happy for me! I knew he was. Around that same time, I had also been appointed as a Primary School Leader. There were double celebrations happening in my house. I remember, one night, Max was on my bed and we were just talking. Well, I was talking. He never talked. He always listened. I was talking to him about how I felt nervous and scared about becoming a leader. He simply looked at me and I understood something; something that I can put into words now. If a path does not have an obstacle to overcome, a challenge to undertake, then it's not the path we need to take.
Max was always someone I could talk to about both my successes and my failures. His silent understanding would lead to a silent understanding of my own. Whenever I had a difficult decision to make, I would always talk to him about it, hoping to reach an epiphany regarding what to do. In eighth grade, when I was appointed as a Middle School Leader, I was at a slightly more difficult stage in my life. I had duties to my school on one hand, but obligations to my friends on the other hand. I never really knew if I should tell them right from wrong as a Leader, always afraid that I may lose them as friends. However, if my everlasting friendship with Max ever taught me anything by that point, it was that I do need to have a voice. My voice is the most powerful asset I have. Max knew that very well owing to the fact the amount of words I must have filled his poor ears with. Consequently, I did tell my friends what was right and what was wrong and stood my ground no matter what. They came to appreciate my sense of leadership and impartiality and it was the right decision on my part.
Around that time began another significant friendship, one with a girl who quickly became my best friend too. We hung out a lot together and talked a lot too. I neglected Max a bit during that time, but he was always my one true best friend. There was no competition when it came to him. He was my go-to person for anything, especially when my feelings for my new best friend turned from 'just friends' to something more and I was let down by her response to my new feelings. It was also around this time that I soon became a confidante in whom many other friends, mainly female, confided in my regarding different things. From all my discussions with Max, I was able to help others with their problems just as Max helped me : through silent understanding, not through random advice.
Max helped me become a strong listener, one who should understand before anything else. Max taught me life.
Max, my dear labrador, my best friend of eleven years, died on the fourth of October last year, at about four minutes past seven in the evening. He was my faithful companion, my best friend, and much more. He died having spent his lifetime with me, and I live on with memories of having spent the best years of my life with him. I believe that he always wanted me to succeed. He was there for my successes and for my failures, and I believe that in a way, he still is. When I was appointed as the Head Boy of my school, I remembered my promise to him.
I promised him that I would be everything that he would want me to be and much more.
I promised him that I would live a life just like him : a life that would change someone else's life. These are promises that I intend on keeping.
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