My Problem With The Light

Whenever one of my flat mates walks past my open door and sees the lights turned off, she sighs, and switches them back on for me. You see, I don’t ever put the lights on in my room until it’s actually dark, and even then, if I’m just on my iPad or phone, I still don’t bother. It infuriates her a little, because she can’t stand to sit in the dark.

Today, she waltzed into my room, made a comment about how I’m more likely to be upset without the lights on because the light makes her happy, turned all four of the lights in my room on, and left again.

That very action stressed me out a little. I like the lights off. Firstly, my dad has been ranting and raving for years about saving electricity and lighting the world, and so I’ve just become accustomed to living in the dark. Now I’m older though, not only am I used to it, but I very much like it. With my curtains drawn I can ignore the rain, and with the lights off, I can sit on my bed in my room, with the door propped open, and people walk past without even noticing that I’m here. It means that I don’t have to communicate, I don’t have to smile and say hi, and I can sit in my own little world, whilst still observing the daily routines of my flat mates.

She’s right, I do cry more in the dark. Either way though, I’m not sure it matters. I’m sure as hell not going to cry while my door is wide open. I’m not sure what my point is, and I’m not sure why I don’t like the light on, really. But leave me to hide, perhaps sometimes, the dark can feel a little safer. The dark gives you time to be with just yourself, and to let down the guard that you spend all day propping up, even if just a very little bit.

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