19

I am a fool at nineteen. Lying on the new carpet fresh and clean smell I look up and see, trying to get the one good last look up before I don't have the opportunity to do so to get that one last look at the ridged pattern fan whirring and lavender walls but the walls are a weird white color that actually is kind of yellow and the carpet feels foreign as I let my hands slide down along with my body and all I see is the ceiling and where the walls meet forming memorized corners and as I stand I see the room has shrunk considerably due to the emptiness and my missing bed even the closet that was well equipped to store the evidence of a minor shopping addiction seems strangely distorted as all that is left inside are two racks and many colored hangers missing the barely worn garments I had convinced myself were essential to my look megan wardrobe. I loved my room almost as much as I love run on sentences, more so in fact it was a place that harbored my growing up self I don't really know how to explain it was a three room home void of privacy due to its size but I had countless moments of solitude and of my own in there given to me almost always when I needed them, and I think that's something really special my room gave me, why I feel the need to write this at all, a goodbye letter to my room my home and hopefully I won't be too sad to leave it even though I've left it for such as long time, and I don't find myself particularly attached to things as much as people and memories I do believe I will miss my lavender room with the beautiful ceilings and comfy carpet as a space that was all my own.