My room…

This room, it used to be so bright, it used to be full of life.

It used to have paintings on the walls, paintings of me as a young and happy child, playing outside. It used to be covered in drawings I made of my family.

There used to be music in this room, fun music. There used to be jokes in this room , non-sarcastic, or cynical jokes.

It used to be a warm room, one where cold feet weren’t an issue, one where oranges and mandarin’s would be eaten sitting against the radiator. A room where I’d look out the window, waiting for my mom, hoping she’d come zoon so I could give her a big hug and tell her how much I had missed her. And then we’d sit down together and I’d tell her about all the things that happened in her favourite soap opera.

That room, where I’d scream for my mom, where I’d watch TV with my brother at 6.30 in the morning without my parents knowing, where I’d play cards with my dad from dusk till dawn, trying to beat him at a game he damn near invented, I don’t have it anymore…

My room has changed…I could say all the pictures have turned dark and that I’m in a great depression…but I’m not. However my room has changed and I now realise that I want my old room back.

I want to feel like that 3 year old child again, that didn’t have a care in the world…
The reason I’m so stuck, is because I have several directions I could head into, but because I’m scared to choose one…I’d rather go back into my old comfort zone…my old room…

The room where I didn’t have to make choices, where nobody would expect a choice from me…

I’m scared of the world… I’m afraid it will be less fulfilling, and les nice then my old room…

The only way to find out whether it is though, is to step out into that world and see what it has in store for me…