I’m staying in a room that i haven’t slept in for years. High school was marked by me moving downstairs to the basement and getting farther away from my parents. I got more space, a bigger bed, and the ability to do whatever the hell i wanted with my own floor of the house. Middle school had me living in the two small rooms upstairs connected by a door. I got the front half of the second floor and i thought it was one of the greatest things ever. Elementary school: twin bed. pink walls with the “sponge” technique. an armoire that took up about half of my room. barbies stashed underneath my bed to make room for books on my shelves.
I’ve now come full circle. I’m in the summer of my junior year in high school and will be applying to colleges come fall, and i am now laying in a twin bed surrounded by memoriablia of someone else’s childhood. I remember when i used to sneak into my parents room to sleep with them. I remember being scared of the dark and acting like i wasn’t so i would be allowed to watch tv with my dad. I remember when i used to dream of being 13, then 16, then 18. Growth has been marked by room changes, bed changes, life changes. I’m going to be in a twin sized bed come next fall after i have spent over seven years avoiding laying back in one. silly circle.