I can't sleep.
I don't want it to. At all. I do not want to go back to school. (And that is why I will not post this blog on the RWC Student Blogger website for all the incoming freshie's to read.)
I think it is a bit abnormal... that I don't want to go back to college. I mean, everyone around me is ecstatic to get back to the life of a poor student, living in mediocre housing, surrounded by friends, fried food and frisbees. And it's really not a bad life, when you think about it... we don't have too many concerns, besides our classes and grades... College students are the ones that take road trips and make the funniest YouTubes. We have the capability to do anything and boundaries are few. No parents around, no grandmothers around... no teacher I had in second grade will run into me at the grocery store and shake her head, "Tsk, tsk, tsk," as I ride by on the back of a shopping cart. Everyone will just smile and think, "She's from the college."
And that's cool. It's fun, and liberating, and independent, and I get that. I really do.
But my dorm smells weird.
It does, it has this faint, like rubbery, smell to it... a brush between clean linoleum floors and Salvation Army toy box.
And my dog, he doesn't come up to lick my feet when I'm studying. My friends in New York, they don't know about the Mill Road playground, and how the kickball games are top of line... better than East High. Or that Dave Darrenkamp bummed a cigarette off Britany Nolan and I just about died laughing. They haven't seen my Mom come home from work with 25 pounds of paperwork in her arms and a laptop over her shoulder and a purse on her other and a drink balanced on top and immediately ask, "Do you need anything??" before she even sets her stuff down. New Yorkers rarely get into Phillies games, either.
I guess it must be a bit normal, then. To not want to go back. I hate leaving my family, my house, my old friends. But it's not just that... it was this summer.
This
summer
was
awesome.
It's because of the incredible time I had the past 3 or 4 months that makes me treasure all the things I have at home even more. It really flew by. I mean, REALLY flew by... which is weird, because for being my fastest summer ever, it was also my longest. (Instead of starting in June, this one started in May... but I would've loved if it started in March. Or last November.) I realized how much I needed this break once I got back to PA. Like, really needed it. I was overwhelmed by change, I needed to catch my breath, talk with some old high school homies before picking up the race again. I'm in the middle of this life-changing environment with new people and new lessons and new places, and I'm taking it all in, trying to comprehend it all, allowing it to change certain views and certain attitudes... it's like I'm on a train ride, a wicked fast one... and we're at a stop and I suddenly remember, I wasn't always on this train... I get off and talk to some old friends, see if I'm doing alright, how they're doing on their train rides... and then the conductor blows the whistle... and we're off again.
Well, darn it, I liked that rest stop.
This summer I had the chance to get to know some really great people, witness my friends' change and grow, have incredible spontaneous adventures with old and new pals, week after week... climbing mountains and having picnics and walking boardwalks and watching sunsets and screaming during power outages and sitting around campfires and holding hands in the dark and playing guitar and taking road trips and sitting on sand... and packing suitcases... and hugging goodbye... and not knowing what it will be like when I come back. That, that is the worst part.
"The right thing isn't always the easiest." My mom said that tonight. She's a brilliant young woman, my mom. I'll get back on the train. And once again be thrown at new people, and new lessons and new places... and I'll be able to handle it. Just like I did before. Summer is ending. I get it. And I'll move on.
But not without a fight.
