One thing about me that has changed drastically: personal space. I have gone through periods where i’ve had the biggest room in the house, and periods where i’ve slept on a pallet next to my mothers bed.

When we moved to Portland it was after a period where the three of us shared a single room for eight months. I had my own room, and it immedietly became my sanctuary. No one was allowed in. When they did come in, there was a specified area where they could stand and I watched them like a wolf, making sure they didn’t destroy anything. I was kind of over the top.

So, naturally Xander believed he was immune to my NO ONE IN MY ROOM rule. So he’d come in whenever and take my stuff, leaving my door open and my light on. Which were my pet peeves.

So anyway, one day he came into my room in the middle of the night, being quieter than usual. I woke up the moment he opened the door, because I was that neurotic about who entered my room, and I realized that he shut the door and left the light off.

So he came in, sighed, and then layed down on my bed. I’m laying there in absolute fury, too mad to say anything, and he just snuggles into my bed and my pillows and starts to go to sleep while i’m still glaring at him.

Then he opens his eyes, looks at me in real confusion and says:

“Ally?”

“Yes?” I hiss.

“Ally, what’re you doing in my bed?”

I sat up really straight. “Xander. You are in my bed.”

He looked at me with the look you would give a full grown person who doesn’t understand that the sky is up, not down.

“No, Ally, you are in my room, in my bed. Are you ok?” 

I growled in frustration and flipped the light on. “This is MY room! What are you doing?!”

Xander blinked, “Oh, Ally, this is your room.”

“Yes. I know.”

“Oh my god. I am so sorry.” He blinked up at me with an apologetic face. “I just drank too much tonight I think.” He stood up. “Night Ally.”

then he walked out, remembering to close the door, and leaving me very confused.

Yeah, I share a room with Rowan and Sunshine, and I’ve gotten over my whole sanctuary-don’t-touch-a-goddamned-thing-or-I-will-kill-you phase. We cram all our things on the same shelf, and while the lights still have to be off and the door must be shut, anyone can come in, I really don’t care anymore.