room

I want to share something bittersweet that recently happened in my life. Several days ago I moved, but not far. I loaded my arms with my belongings and settled in a new room across the hall, after a roommate moved out.

I had written about my former room way back in January, two weeks into my stay in New York. The room was very stark, but such a beautiful place to me. It meant so much and I know that no one could ever look at it the same or understand the significance. It contains my feelings and a period of my life that cannot be described.

In my old room, I was a guest and a traveler ready to uproot. My possessions were scarce enough to pack my suitcase and return to where I came from if things didn’t work out. I slept on a cot for those three and a half months, my toes dangling over the edge and four inches of mattress below me. Yet I hardly noticed what I didn’t have; I had a room, and that was what I needed most.

Each morning, and again in the evening I would walk through the door. I was met by a window that faced the street, my outlet to the sidewalks and neighbors of Prospect Place and all the goings-on below. It was my window, in my room, and the light that came from it, too, was my light. I loved the feeling of ownership that came with the 7.5′ x 12.5′ space — they were my 94 square feet in Brooklyn, New York. No one else’s, no where else, but I would share every inch with any visitor, I was so proud.

Looking in to my first room, now empty.
Looking out of my first room.
My first room from the doorway.
• • • • •

My new room is beautiful, but in a different way. It is not my first room in Brooklyn, and it feels heavier— as though I bear an anchor to this room, and will stay in this place for some time. A full size bed is snug in a corner, with a wardrobe opposite that teems with my belongings. I am growing here in every sense. The window no longer overlooks the street, but instead faces the brick wall of an adjacent building. There is still light — my light, that I wake up to every morning, well-rested, my first thought always, “My, this is nice…”

xo
j

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