Catching up on Glee episodes tonight really messed with my emotions. I cried, I laughed, I wanted to sing. Now, I can’t sleep.
I’ve spent too many hours in my bed today staring at my yellow walls and contemplating different versions of my future. There are so many possibilities; I’ve worked plenty of them out it my head. Sometimes thinking about my future — professional (because I’m old enough to think this way) and personal, both separate and connected — makes me want to choke on my own spit. Sometimes it makes me think I can run around this city barefoot without stubbing my toes like I used to every time I was two minutes too late to follow my brother and his friends down the street. Sometimes it makes me stare at my yellow walls.
My skin just started to tingle in reaction to a memory of a certain short story I’ve read so many times. The first time I read it, in high school, my two best friends compared me to the creeping woman the story is written about. We all laughed about it, but we also knew there was truth in the arrows they drew from my name to certain phrases on the page.
I don’t think my choice to paint my room yellow was a coincidence, considering my previous connection to this short story. It’s not wallpaper (though for a while I was really contemplating some easychange wallpaper from Sherwin-Williams), and that slight difference must mean something too. There’s so much to think about; these walls mean so much.
My room is dark now; I can’t see the yellow walls. I can’t tear down the paint, like she could tear down the paper.
Someone told me today that I need to do something with my blank yellow walls. I said I was going to splatter paint them with glow-in-the-dark paint. That way, my room will always be bright and happy. But then I thought that maybe glow-in-the-dark splatter paint actually sent a different message than the bright and happy one I had first envisioned. Creating this room of my own is going to be a serious task. These walls have so much potential.
I can create my own shapes on the walls. I can also leave this room and experience the world whenever I want. I guess I don’t have to be that woman.
Thinking about life can be so exhausting.