I’ve never spent so much time in my room. I’ll admit it—I’m a homebody that loves sitting on my bed, but, man, going to college, cramming all my stuff in my tiny River dorm, and having a fresh new room makes something about my childhood room feel different. Maybe it’s a sense of lost independence and liberation. I should be happy that I get to sleep on my queen-sized mattress in a space easily double the size of my dorm. A space that I can dance in, hang out with friends in (of course, not right now). A space where I can comfortably let my stuff pile up in corners without taking up too much room. But within a week of being home, before I had even spent that much time in my childhood room, I completely redecorated it. New bed-frame. New  desk. New posters. I even almost bought some wallpaper before realizing how damn expensive it is.

Perhaps I did it in an attempt to match the perfect imperfection of my dorm room, but it’s missing the broken window handle, thin walls, potentially blood stained carpet, and most of all, my friends. My floormates that slip on ice with me in the middle of the night, that make the trek back to the River with me after studying in the East Asian room in the stacks. My River friends that without a doubt always make me smile when they randomly walk into my room that I always keep unlocked for moments like those. I miss the glorious feeling of finally reaching the door after I had to walk the extra 30 seconds to French while my friend was lucky enough to be in Judge. The random FaceTime calls don’t even compare to being in the same cramped, small River room with them. Sending tik toks back and forth isn’t as funny as when we’re sitting next to each other and we know we have tons of other work we should be doing instead. I miss my River room.

The world from my childhood room isn’t the one I want to be in right now. The one that feels eerily close to what I imagine a Black Mirror episode to be like. But even in the bleakness of my lavender-colored, screen-dominated room, I’ve found some ways to occupy all the extra time I have from procrastinating my schoolwork. I started a window sill garden that isn’t too shabby. I’ve taught myself how to sew. I tapped into the era of no cell phones and sent letters to my friends, getting some good ones back. I’ve actually interacted with my family when I do venture out of my room. I’ve picked up baking at odd hours of the night. Yet, while I am no prisoner to my room (I do have the rest of my house to enjoy), I’m counting down to my liberation. I wonder if it will be the day they tell us we can return en masse to campus or the day my parents drive me to the airport or the day I simply just get to see my friends again. I wonder if leaving home will hurt as much as it did before 19F and 20W or if I will be happy to return to arguably the best college town. I can tell you honestly, I would do anything for another term living in the River. It’s really not that bad.

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