My roommate has moved out

My roommate left on Thursday.
He was dressed up in his tuxedo with the biggest smile on his face.
He has left lots of other times but this time something was different and we both knew it but neither of us acknowledged it.
He showed me his new apartment and his new roommate and they both seem just swell.
But it's not the same.
I see his empty room with an unmade bed and I can almost convince myself that he has just finally learned how to tidy up and is only merely learning the joys of washing his sheets.
But that's not the case, and it's not the same.
I look back at all the fun times and joys we had together but I know it will never be like that again.
Because my roommate has moved out.
I no longer have to worry about disturbing him when I come home from work at 2 in the morning.
I don't have to be scared to death by the light sensitive music box we used to hide in each other's rooms.
I no longer have to try and beat him to the shower in the morning.
I don't have to worry that my music is too loud or pounding through the walls.
I no longer have to peek around the corners to make sure he isn't trying to scare me.
I won't be able to just have late night talks with him anymore.
I won't be able to do anything with him.
No, I no longer have to do any of that.
Because my roommate has moved out, to bigger and better things that I may never know about.
And things are not the same,
and they never will be again.