Somewhere I don't often go is my old bedroom. I moved out when Evan's dad and I separated in 2003 about a month before Christmas, and into a tiny room just off this one, which sits beyond the open door.
The birthday garland is something I strung up for fun; it supports the Mexican tin ornaments I used to collect, and still hangs in the bedroom. I left it behind for Evan's dad, who uses it to anchor his thoughts when he wakes up mornings.
The blinds in the room are rarely open--even now, I think--because they look out onto a neighbor's kitchen, and it's uncomfortable swimming nude in a fishbowl.
That's my old bedroom. Where I rarely go.