My room.

I sit in my room. My room. I've only been calling it mine for about three weeks now. When I was a kid, I saw this TV show that featured some new-age self-improvement hippie shrink who claimed that one's room can be considered a reflection of that person's current emotional state. I took that to heart. I used that to justify the never quite put together state of the space I called my own.

I organize it much like I "organize" me. ...I really don't.

Three weeks into this space and I've made little progress. I have piles of potential. I have pictures I want to hang up, but haven't gotten around to it because I need to remove some from frames and replace them with people I can stand to hang on my walls. I have piles of things I used to take pride in - books that inspired me, movies that moved me, technology I used to enjoy. There they are - my beliefs, my ideals, my goals. Disjointed. Collecting dust. Needing attention I haven't given them.

I look at my room and realize that we both need to change. We need to settle into this next stage of life. We need to get organized. We need to shelf the past, get rid of the ugly, and design the future. We need to make us beautiful again, inviting, warm, coherent.

This isn't easy for either for us.

My room and I never meant to end up in the city where we are. We never thought it'd be just us again. I shared my former room with someone else and that someone else was supposed to always share a room with me. That was the plan. I thought his piles were there to stay. I thought our piles complemented each other's. I thought that made me happy.

Looking at my dusty and unread ideals, my un-hung relationships, my un-laundered self-image, I realize I'd let someone else's piles define my space, ...my life.

So, my room and I are starting over. Just us. It's time to spruce things up. It's time for both of us to fall back in love with the fact that neither of us will ever be 100% tidy or presentable. We're going to learn how to be okay with just each other.

I'm making my room ...and my life ...mine again.