A Room of My Own

I lay abed last night, staring at the ceiling and listening to my friend's even breathing. Why do I always seem to make friends with people who can fall asleep so quickly and easily when it is such a struggle for me? Her presence in my room, her things among my things, it is a bit of a struggle for me. This shared space, this new intimacy in our friendship frightens me. I have lived in my own room for so long--had my own secret, quiet place to retreat to and now that solace is gone. I am willing to share my space, my things, but so reluctant to share myself...