For four years I did my best to push through high school. I tried to only get as close to other people as absolutely necessary for survival. I wanted to get in, do well in school, and get out.

Just keep looking for the light. The light that is college, and interesting people, and intellectual conversation. Just keep searching for the light. There has to be a way out of this tunnel.

And I made it. I survived high school. I had a few friends, and managed to alienate everyone else. It was a very successful experiment in social interaction. Except then they came along. They came along with there similar taste in television. And their complete openness to everything. They just go around loving me for no good reason. And the two of them who won’t be moving into college dorms on August 24th are going to tie me to this town. This town I tried so hard to escape, unscathed. They’re just going to be here, caring about my well being and making sure I’m happy. Nate’s going to be too far away for everything. I mean, honestly, what were we thinking? And don’t get me started on Goose. She’s just going to move to Akron and we’re going to be more than five minutes away from each other. That’s just no good.

I don’t want new people. I don’t want forced intellectual conversation. I don’t want the light. I want them.

I need them. I can’t even begin to fathom not having them at every turn. And sure, I’ll meet new people, and I’ll have cool things to do with them. But nothing will beat spending Friday night at home, talking over a movie in our pajamas.

In our own completely ridiculous way, we’re a family. I love them. I’m not sure I can handle leaving them too.

Our parents spend the first years of our lives raising us into people. They hope that they make us functional enough to move on and find our own tribe.

I’ve found them.

Stop Light Living

My whole life has been a series of reaching average childhood goals like walking, talking, learning to ride a bike, not dying of pneumonia or embarrassment. I’ve been stuck reaching these mundane milestones, and apparently I got bored enough to stick a few extras in there.

I leave for college in about ten months. My friends say that this is the fastest ten months of my life. Based on the schools I’m looking at, in a year I could still be in good ole Ohio, New York, Massachusetts, or Florida. In a year I’ll be learning how to be a doctor, I’ll be doing something that could very well change the world. But I can’t focus on it. I’m sitting at this red light right now. And not in a bad way.

I’m sitting at this red light, and I’m basking in the warm sunlight. I’m perfectly happy to sit at this light for the next ten months. I just have to remember that, when the time comes, I have to take my foot off the break and slam the gas. It’s going to be a blurry haze of college applications, and test scores, and scholarships essays for the next few months.

I’m doing this whole college thing the way I learned to ride a bike: wildly excited and absolutely terrified. I couldn’t be happier.