Perhaps it’s a little early for this because I still have next weekend and the few days I’m home before the wedding, but I’m sitting in my childhood room right now looking around and thinking this isn’t my room anymore. I mean, of course it’s my room. It’s got all my stuff in it, or close to all. It’s got my bed and stuffed animals and CDs and movies and books, but I’m living out of a suitcase. I’m paying rent on my own apartment. In just two weeks this won’t be my room anymore. I have to pack up my things in boxes that are sitting against my closet right now. I have to wonder what this place will look like when I visit again months later after the wedding.
I’ll be honest I’m scared. We got our marriage license a few days ago and our aisle runner and cake topper. I’m finishing up the place cards and table numbers. Everything is falling into place. We’re getting excited. I look at the Actor every day and just feel so much love for him. It’s a big step. It’s scary, yes, but at the same time I can’t imagine anything else. I can’t imagine coming home for the summer and living the way I used to after 9 months of being on my own. I can’t imagine having to unpack all of my things in my room again only to pack it all back up after a couple months. I can’t imagine not being with the Actor as much as we’ve been together this academic year.
A lot happened in this room. It’s the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere, and I guess that’s why it’s hard to leave it. We moved here when I was eleven, so almost nine years ago. It’s a small room with sizeable holes in the wall I’ve had to cover with posters and tape, and I can’t open the window in the summer or else giant spiders get in and set up over my bed at night when I’m trying to sleep, but it’s still my room. I went through puberty in here. I had my first “boyfriend” and wrote in my diary nightly about him in here (it was middle school, it doesn’t count as an actual boyfriend). I got ready for Winter Ball in here, the formal that would make the Actor and I official. I cut in here, started my recovery in here, found my love for Pop Pilates in here, and I grew up in here.
I’m scared, but I’m also ready. It’s hard to accept change, even good change, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t do it. Every kid leaves the nest at some point. I just kind of can’t believe it’s already time for me to fly.