When I was a kid I slept with all my stuffed animals crammed around me in my bottom bunk so no one felt left out. Regardless of the cramped sensation I felt surrounded by lumps, staring at the wooden boards separating the top mattress from my solitude, I made sure to put myself aside for the well-being of others.

This anxiety to make everyone feel included served to foretell my future, giving me a glimpse into my current young adult life. Growing up spending summers alone I blamed everything on what I currently lacked and wistfully imagined what the next year would hold. If only my mom stopped working so I could get a ride to see friends. If I could drive. If I didn’t have to share a car. If I didn't get scheduled to work. Each school year I yearned for summer and each summer I awaited the moment I could go back to school to see the friends who didn’t care to see me now. The people I surrounded myself with I give all my space regardless of if I feel their lumps dig into my sides. I invite them into my solitude yearning for a soft touch, to share a space with boundaries, to be embraced and not trampled. I give any opportunity to see those who reach out to me regardless of if I am taken advantage of because I am taking advantage of my own time, I chose where I go and these people want to see me. They need me. They asked for my help and I give them all my space.

It’s not until I'm cramped under a bunk reminiscent of my childhood that I understand the foreshadowing I should’ve taken notice of from my younger self. Only the boards are covered by the pillow on my head and the pressure on my sides is not from plushies but from a friend forcing himself on me. This time instead of the deafening silence clearing my mind, it’s foggy and buzzing as thoughts swarm yet I cannot make sense of any of them, because this is a friend who I must have allowed into my space, because I must always stay compliant as I give, because the future must hold something for me to look forward to.

Now in my final year of high school preparing for nothing but the future I finally have what I always desired and find myself unworthy. I found the people that want to see me and cannot handle the disappointment of spending a night off with one group of friends when multiple people reach out. I can't rotate turns in my bed with just one stuffed animal because even though I love them all the same how can I neglect one over the other? I can no longer breathe without the lumps in my sides because I have grown to see that closeness as comfort despite the discomfort I feel. I can't handle the rejection I give off to the animal on the floor that stays indifferent to my decision and remains satisfied with the thought of their turn under the covers with me. 

But people are not stuffed animals and I am no longer a child. I am an adult who remembers my past because I have nothing left to do but move on. Though I admire and value all the people around me, I take comfort in the thought that soon I will leave them all behind. I can lay in bed with my stuffed animals choosing to leave on their own, and in my loneliness, I have disappointed none but myself.