有时候，一个痛苦的人是不喜欢别人陪伴的。其实痛苦往往就是源于陪伴。如果我不能按照自己的喜好装饰房间，至少也得让我独自呆在里面受苦啊。但已经有人告诉过我了，宿舍不是你独处的地方，而是让你学会和别人相处的地方。
SomewhereaRoomofOne'sOwn
Myroomathomewastoosmallforme.IbarelyhadroomforallthelittleknickknacksI'dcollectedovertheyears.ThereweresomanythingsIhadtopackawayinboxesandstoreinclosetsalloverthehouse.OftentimesIdidn'tquiterememberexactlywhereeverythingwas.
TherewereallthenotesmygirlfriendsandIpassedthroughoutjuniorhigh,alongwithallthegoofypoemsmyfirstboyfriendpaidhisfriendstowriteandpassedalongtomeashisoriginals.Ialsohadaseparateboxforrosepetalscollectedfrompastbirthdays,Valentine'sDays,anniversaries,andproms.Ikeptallmypicturesinneatlyorganizedalbumsonthebottomshelfofmybookcase.IhadjewelrythatIneverworebutIthoughtImightsomedayneedstashedawayallovermyroom.IalsosavedbirthdayandChristmascards,leavesthathadfallenfromthetreesthepreviousfall,andmedalsIwonforparticipatinginpianorecitals.OnanothershelfofmybookcaseIevenhadabrickIfoundontheplaygroundatmyelementaryschool.
I'mnotexactlysurewhyIsavedeverything,butIhavesomesortofidea.IneverwantedtoforgetthegreattimesI'dhadgrowingup.IalwaysfearedI'dbecomeoneofthoseadultswhocouldn'trelatetochildrenbecausetheysimplycouldn'trememberhavingbeenchildrenthemselves.Iwantedtoremembertheflowersmybrothergavemewhennootherboywould.IwantedtosomedaylookbackatpicturesofmyfirsttriptoPanamaCity.Forsomestrangereason,IwantedtorememberthedaymyplaymatesandIfoundthatbrokenbrickontheplaygroundandthoughtourschoolwasbeingbrokeninto.
SoIkeptmylifestoredawayinmybedroom,tuckedneatlyintoboxes,stackedhighupinmycloset,ondisplayonmybookcases,stasheddiscreetlyawayinmyunderweardrawerinhopesI'dneverforgetanything.Ilovedmyroombecauseitwasallaboutme.Ididn'thavetoshareitwithanyoneelse.Mymemoriesdidn'thavetominglewithasibling'sorroommate's.Myroomathomewasjustthat...myroom,fullofmythings.
NowthatI'mawayfromhome,enrolledincollege,andsharingtencubicfeetwithanothergirl,myoldbedroomdoesn'tseemsosmall.Itrymyhardesttomakemyhalfoftheroompersonaltome,butinaspacesosmall,thatprovesalmostimpossible.Occasionallyherbookswillfindtheirwaytomyhalfofthedesk,orhershoeswillbenearmycloset.Sometimescrumbsfromthecrackersshe'seatinglittermyhalfofthecarpet,andeverysooften,herhairbrushbeginstohangaroundwithmine.
Idon'thaveroomforallthelittlememoriesIcherish.Ionlybroughtahandfulofpicturesfromhome,leftbehindallmyyearbooks,aswellasmydriedflowersand"wholoveswho"notes.PerhapstheworstpartaboutthewholeordealisthatIdon'thaveroomtostartanynewcollections.ThethreatistherethatIwon'thaveanythingtoremindmeofmycollegeyears.That'sareallyscarythoughtforme.ThisplacewhereIsleepandstudyisn'tmyroom.It'sjustaroom.
404SouthCarrickHallisjustaplacetosleep,study,andwatchmyroommatewatchTV.It'sfilledwithtextbooks,CD-ROMs,anddishes...thingsthataren'tsupposedtobeinabedroom.There'sonlyroomforonestuffedanimalandthreeposterswhichhaveahardtimestayingonbrico-blockwalls.Ihatethefactthatthere'samicrowaveandrefrigeratorintheroomwhereIsleep,andIhatethatI'mresponsibleforfillingthem.
Maybeevenworsethanmynewroom'slackofpersonalityisthelackofprivacyitoffers.Occasionally,andespeciallyduringhome-coming,myroommatecomesinafterI'vegonetosleep.Shedoesn'tmeantowakemeup,butwhenshestartshernightlycontact-removalritual,Ican'thelpbuthearwhatseemslikethousandsofdifferentcleaningsolutionbottlesbumpingaroundthesink.I'vebeenknowntobotherhertoo.DuringthedaywhenI'mtryingtostudy,mytypinginterfereswithherenjoymentof"TheLoveboat,""DaysofOurLives,"and"AnotherWorld."
Myroommateisnottheonlyonewhodeprivesmeofprivacyandmakes404aroomthatisnotreallymyown.Thegirlsnextdoortomeseemeasaback-upgrammarcheckwhentheircomputersdon'tcatcheverymistake.Ican'tlockthemoutbecauseit'snotmyroomtolock.Ican'tsay,"Goaway,"becausethey'vegottentobereallygoodfriendsandIcan'tberudetopeopleIcareabout.
Thelackofprivacythingreallybothersme.NotonlydoIliveinaroomthatactsasabedroom,study,kitchen,livingroom,andbathroom,Idon'tevengettobemiserableinitbymyself.Sometimesmiserydoesnotlovecompany.Rather,itiscreatedbycompany.IfIcan'tdecoratemyroomtomyliking,Ishouldatleastbeabletosufferinitalone.Butdormitoriesarenotforbeingalone-I'vebeentold-they'reaboutlearningtogetalongwithothers.(MaybeI'llseethepositiveresultsofthisnightmarewhenI'mgivingadvicetomyownchildrenwhentheybegincollege,butforthemoment,I'mcompletelyoblivioustothem.)
Thereissomegoodnews,however.Thoughsheannoysmetonoend,sometimesmyroommateisjustthepersonIwanttosee.Ididn'tgettoknowherhabitssowellwithouthertakinginafewofmine.SheoftentimesknowswhatI'mgoingtosayevenbeforeIdo,andmostofthetimesheknowsexactlywhennottosayanythingtomeatall.She'sfriendaswellasfoe,andI'dprobablymissherifsheleft.Thesamesentimentsapplytomyneighbors.It'sreallyquiteflatteringthatthey,evenifsomewhatmistakenly,considermesomesortofgrammargoddess.
Andperhapsmostimportantisthenextthought.WhileIdon'tliveinaroomthat'scompletelymineanymore,andprobablywon'teveragain,Idofindcomfortintheknowledgethatsomewherethere'sapink,green,andwhitebedroomwithabrickonthebookshelf,adiaryintheunderweardrawer,andanairofprivacythatbelongsstrictlytome.ItmaynotbemyroomasoftenasI'dlike,butitwillwaitforme,justlikeIsitandwaitforit.