I went down the hall to the guest room. I hardly ever went in there. I opened the door and went in without turning the light on. It was nice, comfortable. The walls were off white with a green border hand stenciled around the top of the room. There was a bed spread that matched the border. Or maybe the border matched the bed spread. A TV. A phone on the night stand, even though we all have our own cell phones mom and dad keep the house phones, the old land lines. A dresser with a picture of me, mom and dad from when I was about ten. And a chair. I told mom it reminded me of a hotel room. She laughed and said that's what she wanted. Fortunately there weren't any bad feelings associated with this room. Actually I had often thought of asking mom if I could have this room. But then that would involve a whole lot of change. For me anyway. I took the remote from the TV, closed the door and got right in to the bed. It was a lot softer than mine, fluffier feeling. I let myself sink in to the mattress and couldn't believe how sore I felt and how good the bed felt. I turned on the TV and spent two minutes flipping through channels before turning it off and just laying there in the dark.
Now I can think. There was the entire day waiting for me. Slowly I let myself relive the entire afternoon. I would catch myself looking at him and he would smile, I would catch him looking at me and I would smile. While we painted we would talk for a spell and be quiet for a spell. And either way I was surprised by my feelings. They couldn't last. Could they? This was so wonderfully new to me but I felt too old to be enjoying it. I felt too old for it to be new. Something was in the way.
I lay flat on my back with my arms by my side, I didn't want to mess up the bed. Why can't I mess up the damn bed!!!!!!!!!!!! I threw the bed spread back and kicked my feet up to loosen the sheet and blanket I kept tight around me. I lay there for a few minutes. But it was a forced few minutes. I got out of the bed and straightened it and climbed back in. This bed was comfortable. What was I thinking about?
Something was in the way. This isn't right. And it isn't fair! Why can't I let this happen without beating it to death. I am not too old for this. This new feeling. Not to say I hadn't had a crush on a boy before. But I never acted on it. I always felt like that was something that I wasn't meant to be a part of. All of that young stuff. I did feel too old for it. But why? Why would a ten year old feel too old for a crush? And why do I feel like that now? I felt so tense and this made me angry. I realized my fists were clenched and had to consciously loosen them, open them and lay them down on the bed.
Damn him. Damn him. This time I clenched my fists and pushed them forcefully into the mattress. Instead of picturing Shawn I pictured Doug. Looking at me. That last day, saying he thought I liked all of this. I closed my eyes and sucked in all of the air I could and tried to expel him with the breath I finally let out. He was still there. Why did I let him do this to me?
Shawn. Shawn. Shawn. I don't want to think of Doug. Shawn. Shawn. I sat up and pictured Shawn in my room, painting, talking. I even heard him singing quietly to a few songs and remembered the smile I felt when I heard him sing. I lay down. I pictured Shawn eating pizza with us. When we were in the bathroom taking care of his eye and I liked that feeling of comfort I had with him. Come to think of it, I wasn't scared to be with him in my bedroom with the door closed. Shawn was good. I felt that.
I woke in the morning feeling relaxed and happy. I lay there for a minute trying to remember why. Shawn. My dreams had been full of just kissing him. No, not just kissing him, but the feeling of not being scared of kissing him. No fear. I had slept. I moved my head back and forth. My neck didn't hurt. I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest. This room seemed so bright, which I don't usually like. But it felt, no, I felt so....bright myself. I thought of my room and almost cringed. I can't believe I left my room like that all night. I sat there wanting to move to go finish it but not wanting to move out of this feeling. I flopped back on the bed. This was a good room. It was like being in another world. There was no past in here. No darkness, no secrets, nothing to weigh me down. What would be so difficult about making this my room. It was like being in a new house, it was fresh, it was different.
It wasn't my room.
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