It’s my room, I’ll cry if I want to

column by amaleapoulos

colorI’m the type of person who needs my life to be organized. My room is absolutely an exception.

Recently, I took a few days of a long weekend to clean it. I had let it get so messy, I wasn’t even sure if I had hardwood or carpet floors anymore (I have carpet, by the way). I had strategic ways of walking to get from the door to my bed in order to avoid stepping on something slippery — or the absolute worst: the dumbbells I occasionally take to Jazzercise. Talk about a terribly stubbed toe!

I took a few hours of each day to make my room clean and became emotional about something I’d never thought I’d be emotional about — hanging up my clean clothes. Who gets sentimental about putting laundry away? The answer is me, I get sentimental about putting laundry away.

As I cleaned, I realized that I’m leaving for college in a few months, and I won’t always be able to take advantage of this super-personalized living space.

Senior year means a lot of things; another era of life ends and huge decisions are made. I’ve cried about some ridiculous things this past semester (if you saw me at the end of Welcome Dance, sorry) but I’ve also had some pretty major epiphanies.

Change happens, and it’s not always bad. If I have learned one thing this year, it’s that big life choices, such as choosing where to go to school for four years, aren’t something to fear. They’re an opportunity to grow closer to your friends and yourself.

Long story short: I love my room and change will be scary at first, but my dorm room will soon become so special to me I’ll be sad to move out.

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