Jesus Christ, did I really just post that? I promise I’m not fourteen with daddy issues and nostalgic about everything. Forgive me, tumblr.
It’s a Saturday night and I’m sitting in my room wearing glasses I don’t really need, reblogging coffee, and listening to City and Colour because I’m a sappy motherfucker. Here’s the thing: for a long time I tried my hardest to be honest. Both to myself and everyone around me. And I was actually doing really well.
But, for whatever reason I fell off that train. Everything I do now seems dishonest. Because, as I sit here listening to “Hello, I’m In Delaware”, I’m realizing I lied to myself bigtime.
I told myself I hated this state—this place—just because I hate my father and this shitty situation. Because I miss seeing my mom everyday. Because my best friends graduated last year. Because I’ve been using my whiteboard to countdown the days. (the song just ended. now it’s Best I Ever Had by The Swellers.) But, now everything’s set in stone for me to leave. Now seems like the perfect time for me to question everything, right?
Reality: I love this state. I love Florida more than anything, actually. But, I can’t tell if it’s the memories or the place. I see myself in every street, I hear the songs I grew up listening to. I’m going to miss how the spring feels right before it turns to summer. I’m conflicted. I mean, we all leave high school behind but my friends, well, my friends still live here. They’ll see each other and I won’t see them. They’ll have summers together again. They’ll go to the beach on a weekday. They’ll get in to trouble at 3 AM in the suburbs. Without me. And, you know what? This isn’t like me at all. I really shouldn’t give a shit. I typically wouldn’t. But now that it’s coming to an end, I realize I do care. I guess it’s finally hitting me that the morning after I graduate everything I own will be packed into 3 boxes then packed into a car. The morning after I graduate it’ll take me three and a half hours to drive out of this state. The morning after I graduate might be the last time I see this state and the people I grew up with in years. It’s been made very clear this isn’t my home anymore. And as much as I shouldn’t care, the thought is taking my sense of stability and throwing it against the wall. I guess I shouldn’t care. But it’s 38 days away.