One Year, Two Roommates, and a Suitcase to Dubai: Unfiltered Farewell Reflections

Funny thing about living with a friend: nobody warns you that splitting rent is the easy part. It’s the midnight snack negotiations and the unexpected existential debates that catch you off guard. Looking back on a year (plus two weeks) of housemate life, what stands out isn’t the shared space — it’s the shared strangeness, the little rituals, and the many, many inside jokes. Here’s a not-quite-linear, not-always-PG tour through the last days of our accidental domestic partnership, right before one suitcase heads to Dubai, and the other lingers in the shadows of Cambridge.

Milestones, Melancholy, and Making It Up as You Go

When two people agree to live together, they rarely imagine how much can change in a year. In this case, the plan was simple: one month, just enough time to figure things out, maybe help each other through a transition. But as the days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, that “one month” quietly became a year and two weeks. As one roommate put it,

“You told me you were going to live with me for a month and it’s been a year and nearly a month.”

Living with a Roommate: The Unexpected Journey

Living with a roommate is always an adventure, but sharing a home during a global pandemic is something else entirely. The world outside was unpredictable, but inside, routines formed and friendships deepened. The original plan was to cohabit for just a few weeks, but the reality was a year filled with shared meals, late-night conversations, and a lot of learning—about each other and about themselves.

There were awkward jokes about never missing each other, but beneath the humor was a real sense of emotional support. As the last day together approached, the emotional pendulum swung between sadness at leaving and excitement for what was next. “It’s sort of like graduating university, where you feel sad that it’s over, but excited for the next step,” one reflected.

Friendship Milestones: Growth in the Everyday

The year was packed with milestones—some planned, many unexpected. One finished a PhD, another started a new job. Together, they launched podcasts, started YouTube channels, and even invented “Mealtime Mondays,” a tradition born out of necessity and boredom that became a highlight of their week. These creative collaborations were more than just projects; they were anchors during a time when the outside world felt uncertain.

Friendship milestones often happen quietly: a shared laugh during a power outage, a pep talk before a big interview, or simply surviving lockdown together without driving each other mad. These moments, big and small, became the foundation of their friendship.

Personal Growth Cohabitation: Lessons from Lockdown

The pandemic forced everyone to adapt, but for roommates, it meant learning the art of coexistence in close quarters. Communication, patience, and a willingness to “make it up as you go” became essential skills. There were days when the walls felt too close, when the only escape was a walk around the block while the other hosted a marathon live session for their YouTube academy. But there was also a sense of gratitude for having someone to lean on.

• Finishing a PhD
• Starting new jobs
• Launching podcasts and YouTube channels
• Building a creative team
• Supporting each other through lockdown

As one roommate shared, “I feel sad about leaving… most of my friends are here.” The other admitted to feeling a little melancholic, knowing that seeing each other would soon become a rare event. Yet, both recognized the growth that came from this shared experience.

Emotional Support Friendships: Surviving and Thriving Together

Friendships during the pandemic took on new meaning. With family and other friends far away, roommates became each other’s main source of emotional support. There were honest conversations about fear, loss, and uncertainty. There were also moments of joy—celebrating small wins, sharing meals, and laughing at inside jokes that only made sense to them.

The year was objectively tough: lockdowns, missed family gatherings, and the ever-present anxiety of the unknown. But within their shared walls, they found ways to thrive. “We didn’t get sick of each other,” one joked, “at least, I’m talking on your behalf because I don’t want to hear if you did.”

Making It Up as You Go: The Art of Adaptability

If there’s one lesson from a year of personal growth cohabitation, it’s that adaptability is key. Plans change, timelines shift, and sometimes, what starts as a temporary arrangement becomes a defining chapter. The milestones they reached—both personal and shared—were possible because they learned to support each other, communicate openly, and, when all else failed, laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Looking back, it’s clear that living with a roommate isn’t just about sharing space. It’s about building a friendship that can weather uncertainty, celebrate milestones, and offer comfort during the hardest days. And sometimes, it’s about making it up as you go—and realizing that’s more than enough.

Soulmates, Syntax, and the Curious Language of Close Quarters

The ‘Lobster’ Debate: Are Soulmates Fact, Fiction, or Just Made-for-TV Tropes?

It started, as many roommate conversations do, with a question that was both random and oddly revealing: “Is she your lobster?” The phrase, borrowed from the iconic TV show Friends, refers to the idea that lobsters mate for life—soulmates, destined to always find each other. But in the small Dubai apartment, this reference sparked more confusion than clarity.

“What’s a lobster?” one asked, genuinely puzzled. The other tried to explain: “You know, when Phoebe says Ross and Rachel are each other’s lobsters? They’ll always find each other.” But the analogy quickly derailed. Instead of romance, someone wondered if it was more like the crabs in a barrel story, where crabs pull each other back down. The room filled with laughter and playful debate, highlighting how pop culture references can both unite and confuse, depending on who’s in on the joke.

Why Not Believing in Soulmates Doesn’t Make Your Friendship Any Less Real

In that moment, the conversation turned philosophical.

“I don’t believe in the idea of soulmates because that’s a myth perpetuated by romanticism.”

Their communication styles reflected this realism. There was no need for grand gestures or dramatic declarations. Instead, their bond was built on shared routines, mutual respect, and a willingness to laugh at misunderstandings. The idea of soulmates might be a TV trope, but the reality of their friendship was just as meaningful, even without the label.

Wordplay, Inside Jokes, and Misunderstanding Q&A Prompts

Living in close quarters means developing a language all your own. For Ali and Sheen—the duo behind the Ali and Sheen Channels—this often meant turning even the simplest Q&A into a comedy routine. When asked, “Did you guys do it?” they both paused, unsure what “it” meant. Did the question refer to starting a YouTube channel? Collaborating on a podcast? Or something else entirely?

Their answer was as playful as their friendship: “Yeah, we started the YouTube thing. We were on each other’s podcasts. I think that probably counts.” The ambiguity of the question became a running joke, a reminder that even the most straightforward prompts can become inside jokes when filtered through the lens of shared experience.

This playful riffing extended to their daily lives. Mealtime Mondays became a ritual, filled with laughter, debate, and the occasional misunderstanding. These moments weren’t just about food—they were about building a shared language, complete with references, callbacks, and the kind of wordplay that only makes sense if you’ve lived together.

Invented Rituals: Mealtime Mondays, Open-Ended Work Offers, and Semi-Formal Job Negotiations

The language of friendship isn’t just about jokes—it’s also about how support and opportunity are offered. In this apartment, job offers were made over dinner, with all the seriousness of a handshake and none of the paperwork.

“We don’t believe in formal offers; we don’t believe in contracts.”

These informal negotiations reflected a modern, flexible approach to both work and friendship. There were no leaving gifts in the traditional sense, but the real Leaving Gifts Ideas were the memories, the shared projects, and the open invitations to return. The boundaries between personal and professional blurred, not out of necessity, but out of genuine care and mutual respect.

• Mealtime Mondays: A ritual for connection, debate, and shared laughter.
• Open-ended job offers: Support without strings, always available.
• Inside jokes: The true currency of close quarters communication.

Effective Communication Styles: Quirks, Comfort, and the Language of Friendship

Research shows that effective communication is vital for harmonious cohabitation, but in reality, it’s the quirks—the misunderstandings, the inside jokes, the flexible boundaries—that make it work. For Ali and Sheen, the language of close quarters was always evolving, shaped by TV references, playful debates, and the ongoing negotiation of what it means to be friends, roommates, and collaborators.

Moving On (But Not Really): Gifts, Geography, and Never-Ending In-Jokes

When one roommate packs a suitcase for Dubai and the other stays behind in Cambridge, you’d think it would be all tears and final goodbyes. But for these two, “moving on” is more about new punchlines, practical leaving gifts, and plotting future reunions than it is about endings. It’s a story that proves Dubai job opportunities don’t just change your LinkedIn—they change your group chat, your travel plans, and your morning routines.

The search for the perfect leaving gift was less about sentiment and more about utility—because, as both roommates agreed, there’s no point in a present that just gathers dust. The debate was fierce: Should it be a microphone, for all those future video calls and impromptu podcasts? Or a hair dryer, finally one that actually works, after a year of failed experiments and frizzy mornings? In the end, the gifts reflected their personalities: practical, a little cheeky, and always with an inside joke attached. As one of them put it, “I don’t believe in sentimental goods that have no value other than the sentimentality of them.”

But gifts were only the beginning. The real challenge was figuring out how to keep the friendship alive across continents. Saying goodbye didn’t mean disappearing. Instead, it sparked a flurry of plans: graduation next year, holidays in Dubai, and the promise of a “free holiday house in Dubai!” The jokes flowed as easily as the travel plans. Would the one left behind actually visit? Would Dubai become the new base for “the lads” and their legendary hangouts? “You can host the lads,” came the reply, half challenge, half invitation. The answer was always yes, even if it meant squeezing everyone into a Dubai flat and pretending to be grown-ups with real jobs.

Living together had already broadened their horizons in ways neither expected. Take the impromptu geography lesson about Mauritius, for example. Before moving in, one roommate couldn’t have pointed to Mauritius on a map. Now, after endless discussions, jokes, and a few failed guesses (“somewhere off the coast of Africa, but like, surprisingly far off the coast”), it was a running gag—and a reminder of how much you learn from sharing a home with someone from a different background. “It’s near Madagascar, right?” “Yes, which is also off the coast of Africa.” These little moments, the ones you never plan for, become the glue that holds a friendship together, even when the time zones don’t.

Of course, not all rituals are about geography or gifts. Some are about how you start your day. For both roommates, the Morningbrew Newsletter became a shared habit—one that survived even as their addresses changed. “Morningbrew is my favorite thing to do in the mornings instead of scrolling Twitter when I’m on the toilet,” one confessed, only half-joking. Forget The Economist, forget endless news apps. Morningbrew was the one constant, a five-minute ritual that made them feel connected to the world—and, in a small way, to each other. Even after the move, they’d text about the latest headlines, sharing stories and ideas sparked by the newsletter. It was a reminder that sometimes, the smallest routines are the hardest to leave behind.

In the end, moving for a Dubai job opportunity wasn’t just about a new city or a new career. It was about finding creative ways to stay close, even when the geography said otherwise. It was about practical leaving gifts, inside jokes that never get old, and the promise of future adventures—whether in Cambridge, Dubai, or somewhere in between. The suitcase might be packed, but the story is far from over. As long as there are flights, group chats, and a shared subscription to Morningbrew, moving on doesn’t really mean moving apart.

TL;DR: After a wildly eventful year of living, creating, and overthinking together, we learned that every ending is also a fresh reason to celebrate friendship, growth, and having someone to argue about hair dryers with. Even if the address changes, the stories (and potential free holidays in Dubai) live on.