So my parents got rid of my bed. They gave it away.
My beautiful, milk white futon C-bunk bed that my aunt bought me for my 11th birthday.
Nearly a decade of great memories with that bed..climbing its ladders night after night, pulling cat hair off of my futon cover, picking at the safety warning sticker on the railing whilst combating insomnia, and of course…hiding and hoarding tons shit under it….all very good times.
They gave it away to my 7 year old cousin so it’s not like I’ll never see it again. But…he’s a boy….a messy, sticky, nasty, mischievous little boy — who knows what condition it will be in the next time I see it.
My room looks 25% more spacious now. But you know, other than that arbitrary observation…I’m really not affected by this. I walked into my room today and there was a neat little black futon bed sitting prim against my wall. My parents even put two of my throw pillows on it to help it blend in. They followed me in to see my reaction, and I just said, “Alright out you go, I’m taking a nap.” I made the bed, and my cat ran in and jumped on it. We napped together and didn’t even skip a beat.
I knew it was coming though. I had been forewarned. I’m really getting better and better at letting go of things, at dealing with change and loss. The summer before last, my mother moved me into our guest room one day while I was at work without much of a heads up, so I gave up my bedroom of 20 years so that she could have her own home office. I gave away bags and bags of old clothing and belongings this summer. Now I have effortlessly let go of the single most striking piece of furniture that I have ever had to my name.
However, I wouldn’t necessarily say that I am good at letting go of everything. There are some things in life that I insist on keeping my claws firmly implanted in…for better or for worse. Sometimes these are tangible things, but more often than not they are intangible things…e.g. ideals, assumptions….or even more likely, things that never technically belonged to me in the first place…..e.g. certain individuals…*trails off*. If I could have gotten away with hoarding friends and potential boyfriends under that bunk bed, you know…as pathetic as I am, I probably would have.
I should add that to my list of personality traits to tone down: Stop being such a people pack rat. But it isn’t really my fault that it’s not an easier task. I mean, if I could turn off my attractions, attentions, attachments and affections with a switch, I’d be flipping them off in a heartbeat.
But luckily to take my mind off this sad past-time of mine, I’ve got Janet Jackson and a cat. Simba is now chasing his tail on my new black futon bed. It’s your own tail, Simba.
It’s your own goddamned tail.
Janet Jackson – Miss You Much (so long c-bunk)