"The more things change, the more they stay the same."
Hi, Piece.
I know it's been a while. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner. It's not like I didn't have time or I had no topic to write about. I have no excuse. Things are just different here. Home is... home. Two days after I moved back here, I wanted to leave again. I'm in a funk. I feel restless. I'm simultaneously free to do as I please and trapped in some endless cycle that makes me feel caged. I can't think straight. This place is a world of its own. Somehow, here, nothing changes. But everything changes.
When I left for college, I knew what I was leaving behind. A nutty albeit wonderful family. Great friends who I'd spent nearly every day of my senior year of high school with. A house that I loved in a town that I cared about. A close-knit community that served as a support system. I chose to let it all go.
I went to school. I found myself a new set of friends who became my family, who I saw more often than I ever could have imagined before I'd lived it. I loved my dorm room (and the fact that it really was my own space), and I came to adore the city I'd moved to. I discovered a new support system in the staff and advisers at my school.
And all of this made me happy. It took me some time, but I carved out a new life for myself. Like the old one, yes. But very different. I kept the things that I valued. Everything else started fresh. No one knew who I was or where I came from or how nerdy I was in 7th grade. They had no idea I'd never dated or drank. I could be the best version of me because no one would question it. And that's exactly what I tried to do. I could be myself in my purest form, and that was okay.
I know I've changed since I left almost two years ago. I accept that. I'm proud of that.
Coming back here, though. I feel like I'm regressing.
My family still lives in the same house. The same things are still expected of me that were expected of me since I was 16 (or younger). Do the dishes. Drop your sister off at the school. Run to the grocery store. Eat your vegetables. Pick up your room. It's the same every day. It's a bit frustrating at times because I'd gotten used to controlling these things myself. Being subservient to my parents again (though still working to assert my independence) has taken some adjusting.
My community hasn't changed. Everyone still has the same jobs. The same people are still in control of the same things. Things are in the same places. It's like the town is frozen. It's predictable. Nothing unexpected happens here.
My friends are... well... all over the place - literally and figuratively. Only four of us from my high school group are home for the summer. Everyone else is out in the world living their life. As for the few friends that are home, they're still the same people I went to high school with, but certain characteristics have been magnified. We're all still great friends, and we hang out every other weekend (-ish). Our problem is, we all know (though one still hasn't fully accepted) that we're going back to college soon. Back to our other lives. Our group here, we have very little future together. Honestly, we're running out of things to talk about. Anything we discuss either has to do with the past or with one individual's future plans. We really have no present or future that involves all of us together.
I'd love to change that. I'd be ecstatic if I could show my friends my new home. Show them where I've gone and what I've done with myself. Show them the new life I've made. They refuse to see it though.
One friend from home has visited me in the time I've been away. That one friend is the only one who can actually understand what my new life means to me. None of the others can comprehend why I now act the way I do or the reasons I need to return to my other world so badly.
Oh, Piece. I just want to get back to my second home. I want to be happy and independent and free again. I want to go back to being the better me.
I want to show my old life what it was missing. Now, if only it would open its eyes to what I want it to see.
A new home. One I made on my own. One I'm proud of. May I give you the tour, Piece? If no one else will see it, can I show you both worlds? May I reconcile them in front of you? Because I need this. I need to connect the dots and look at the whole picture. I need to reevaluate what's happened so far.
I need someone to witness - whether I succeed or fail - while I live out my first attempt at the rest of my life.
