Four Walls

Four Walls

I can still remember the pretty pink walls that used to surround us. Small purple flowers were painted along the ceiling and the floor was scattered with tons of Barbie doll accessories. You always came over to play, and my bedroom was our perfect portal to an amazing adventure. Of course things change and it's no longer as innocent as it used to be.

Purple became our next backdrop. Posters of hot teen boys covered one entire wall, while the floor was now littered with nail polish and dirty shirts. It wasn't exactly a portal, escape felt like a better word. So many new and scary things were beginning to occur, but within these four walls we didn't have to be afraid of all the change. We did our homework and then pulled out trending magazines. The perfect Friday night.

But with High School came even more changes. Pale blue was in and the walls were then covered in polaroid pictures of the people who made us smile the brightest. Real flowers and candles had been displayed aesthetically. Books and high heels were neatly set up on the floor in the corners of the room. It felt more grown up, we were more grown up.

We crammed for midterms and picked out the perfect outfits for the dances. Laughs and tears were constantly shared in this new version of this old room. Maybe a little more tears than laughs sometimes. We sat on my bed as hipster Christmas lights hung around the walls. Our arms wrapped tightly around each other and our eyes puffy and red. Make up all smudge and our hair in knots. It sounds like your typical teenage angst, and it really was. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That room became a place where it was okay to not be okay.

Next change. The walls are white now and there are still pictures, just less of them. My astronomy posters now lay over my bed. Small little succulent plants sit by the window and there are entire shelves of books. Its mature, I'm mature now. Taking long naps before the night shifts and morning classes with the weirdest professors. My miss match socks pace back and forth on the hardwood floor as I try to figure out if I really do love him!

All these adult feelings and experiences I'm going through, without you. So many changes I have no control over and you're not here. Sitting in a room I've had all my life and has changed along with me no longer gets me through the day like it used to. I know it's not all your fault, and I try so hard not to be upset.

But . . .

Come home when you can,
please.