Last Night
My bedroom is blue. The carpet is black. There is really nothing significant about this, except for the fact that I picked out the color for the wall and the color for the carpet when I was, roughly, 12 years old. It's funny how much my 12 year old self is similar to my current self. I would pick the same colors. Right now, there isn't much else in my bedroom besides the walls and the carpet. Bed. Blankets. Pillows. A touch lamp that is on top of a small stand. Alarm clock. One small dresser. A box of fedora's. And me. Everything else is packed up in boxes downstairs in my living room. I'm moving tomorrow. And the realization just hit: Tonight. Is. My. Last. Night. In. This. House. I would be lying if I said there aren't tears in my eyes right now. I'm not quite sure if this is categorized as official crying or just being teary-eyed. The latter doesn't sound any more manly than the former. Even so, I think I eared the right to cry about moving. I h