the room slowly empties and loses what little warmth it had left. i pack my belongings. and i'm not only packing the things in my room, i'm packing everything i've had here--all into a box for safekeeping, to be sure it will be safe for unpacking when i return. should i not pack it, i think someone might break it when i return to the place i've been a part of for 18 years. yes, i say 18--i wasn't a part of it this year. i found a part of myself i didn't know was allowed to exist. but it is--and i don't trust Them with my life--my dreams--what little hope i have. i can't. i don't know how. all my life i've kept everything packed away. except when i'm sitting alone, quietly in my dark Room, certain no one will come to steal away what i value most.

... and They would. i'm certain they would--perhaps i'm a selfish soul. i want to keep at least a little part of me for me, not Them. i'm afraid to go--i'm afraid of losing myself in Them. They'll want me to, even beg me to. but i can't ... i just can't. so i'll hide myself--pack it up with my towels and books and extra-long twin bed sheets.

i'm scared ... and that in itself seems wrong.