What’s Next?

My room has four white walls. A perfect number for a pristine color. The walls have always been stable and secure. They’ve always provided safety and structure. I’ve never needed to go outside of them. 

But these walls are too small now. I see cracks in them and I hear them groaning and the paint is chipping and it's all falling apart and I don’t know what to do and-

My room used to have a roof, one perfect roof. One perfect roof that formed a perfect cube with my perfect walls. My roof helped protect me from the dangers and uncertainties beyond the walls. It always had.

But my roof had cracks too and shattered a while ago. It was replaced with an atmosphere of uncertainty, an unsettling void that stared down at me. My roof was gone but I still had structure. I still had my four walls of predictability and safety and validation and normalcy to protect me. 

But now the walls have cracks too and are falling apart and soon the structure I’ve had my whole life will disappear and the void is getting closer and I can’t stop it and-