My Special Room

Part 1

When I was young, I had a special room that I liked to go to. It was a white room, with no windows. In the middle of the room sat a beautifully-crafted black chair. There was just one door. It was the entrance and the exit, but it also brought a very special person. He was a boy my age, and he was my best friend. He grew as I grew. I told him everything, because he listened, and never judged. He knew everything about me, my secrets and fears, and many other things I never told anyone else.

As I grew older, the room changed. Sometimes new doors appeared, and sometimes they disappeared. One door, I found, led to a hallway that grew longer all the time, it's walls and ceiling covered with a variety of doors. I soon realized that this hallway represented my memories.

The room changed with my mood, and my likes and dislikes. But it always stayed white, and the black chair never moved. Sometimes, when I was sad, a window would be in the room, revealing rain. When I was happy, warm sunlight might have spilled through the window. When I wanted to be alone, sometimes picture books would be in the room, or it was coloring books and crayons. And sometimes...there was nothing, except the black chair.

For the longest time, I stayed away from that chair. But, slowly, I became curious. Why was it always there? What was it for? That black chair became something like my thinking chair. I could sit in it and think better than I ever could anywhere else. My thoughts were clear and balanced. Occasionally, when I sat in the chair, my friend would sit in front of me and help organize my thoughts.

I constantly returned to that room for over 10 years, but one day, I didn't go back. I think I just forgot about it. My time seemed stretched over many more things, leaving room for little else. I went through many ups and downs through the years, and during a lot of them I felt alone, despite my friends and family. It wasn't until I became an adult that I was reminded of my quiet place. However, all I had was a memory of it. I couldn't remember the way back. And, when I tried to imagine what it might be like after all those years, I couldn't. I felt guilty for leaving my best friend for so long; he must have been lonely.