I cleaned my room today. Not just picked up a few things here and there, I actually scrubbed it ceiling to wall. I’m pretty sure I vacuumed every last piece of dust anywhere. It was nice to just sort of listen to music, dance around in my room, and pretend like nothing is changing. But the more I cleaned, the more I found myself organizing things in the way I’ll want to pack them up again. I leave in 3 weeks, and it’s crazy to think about. At one point, I was reaching under my dresser to make sure there was nothing under there that I didn’t want to vacuum, and I pulled out a gold pin in the shape of a ballerina. I had danced my whole life up until I was 12. My room used to be bubblegum pink with ballerina slippers printed around the top of the walls. This last year we finally painted it, and now thats its a deep red color, I find myself almost missing the pink. As dumb as it may sound, it was comforting to know that no matter how bad my day was at school, or how bad of a mood I was in, my room still had that childish charm that I could always come back to. In a way, it was almost like a breath of fresh air to feel like no matter what, I had a place I could just come back and be a child in.
Lately I’ve been doing so good on my own. Without even thinking about it, I find myself almost pulling away from my life here. Today, when I was cleaning, I managed to dump all of Ryan’s things in a box. I was surprised to find that there wasn’t as much of it as I thought there would be. I guess maybe I just figured that since I had the real thing, I didn’t need reminders of him around me all the time. Yet, my room still feels strangely empty without what small reminders I did have. One night, when my dad and mom were helping me paint my room, Ryan was sitting on my bed messing with magnetic words. He started to make sentences, but once I peeked, he hid the wipe-off board and told me I had to wait until it was finished. Eagerly I waited, until he finally flashed the board in my view.
” I love-
when we talk at night
the way you smell
little dumb fights
knowing your always here for me
– you Aly”
Now, it breaks my heart to read it. So, I thew it in the box with everything else that breaks my heart to look at. I watched as the plastic hit the side of the box, and the tiny magnetic words popped off. I wanted nothing that had to do with him left anywhere in my room, so instead of letting the letters just stay where they lay on the floor, I picked up the few that had landed outside the box. I felt like I might throw up when I saw the two words that were nestled in my palm: love, always.
At the time, I gave everything I had to him. At some point, it became not enough anymore. Now, I feel like he stole it. He stole my youth. As he formed those magnetic words on that board sitting on my bed, my ballerina walls became red. I was no longer that little 6 year old girl slipping on her ballet flats and lacing fingers with my mom. Instead, I was a 17 year old girl smiling back at the face of the person who I thought I loved & who I thought felt the same. Now, an entire summer later, I’m a 18 year old adult, resenting what should be the most exciting time of my life. I can’t say that I don’t love him anymore, because when someone takes a piece of you, they’ll always have it. Lately, its been surprisingly easy to breathe without him here. But when I see the glossy eyes of that stupid dog he gave me peeking out over the cardboard of that box next to my door, I can’t catch my breath. When I’m laying in bed at night, trying to find anything to entertain myself with because its hard to fall asleep, I can’t catch my breath. Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. Sometimes, when someone leaves us behind, we have to look at it for what it really is: us leaving them behind. He held me back. And the more time I spend upset, the more he’s still doing it. At times, I just wanted him to appreciate me. I wanted him to just smile to himself when I was singing to the radio in the car, or pick up a paper I had written for school, and appreciate every word on it. Just once, I wanted him to lean into me, squeeze my hand, and say I was destined to be great. But now, thanks to none of that ever happening, I realize that even if no one tells us, we have to know we are meant for something great. Without his baggage, I’m not held down anymore. Without all of the reminders of what our relationship was drowning my room, it feels lighter. Without the words “I don’t want to be with you. Things just change, okay?” resting heavy on my heart, maybe I can breathe a little easier too.
Alyssa Chaffee 