.

Being able to drive wherever I want, whenever I want; singing as loud as I can whenever the desire strikes; my crying tree, and the rusty playground by the old Methodist church down the road from my house; waking up to hear my favorite person trying to close the front door quietly in the early morning, stepping lightly, trying not to wake me up before he could surprise me--which never worked; sunburn and that clean, salty water at Bethany; an embarrassing open mic night; sitting on the shore until four in the morning with a girl I've known since third grade; knowing that everything was going to be okay; ignorance toward the policies and rules at the place I was to soon call home; feeling pretty, radiant, feeling worthy and wonderful; quickies when good old dad left to run a few errands; Delaware; speeding to merchandise at the end of a long night at the beach; smoking blacks and feeling disgusting just because, to stay awake on long drives home in the middle of the night; smoking just to feel pure and lovely and whole; buying metro tickets, losing metro tickets, buying metro tickets again; making love on our last night together with the lights out in the bed I grew up in; crying without having to worry that someone can hear me through paper-thin walls; spooning; being happy without Tumblr being my main source of laughter; feeling accepted. Really, just everything.

I keep living these memories over and over in my head.

Reasons why I'm writing this
1. To reminisce (again) without feeling guilty
2. To avoid thinking about how angry I am at my mother and father
3. To avoid thinking about this paper that is due in a matter of hours and
4. To avoid thinking about how dreadfully busy tomorrow is going to be

I know that I need to just move on and try and make memories now, but it's hard. I have no desire to know the people around me. On the few occasions when I've revealed just a little about my beliefs, what make me who I am, I've gotten weird looks and reprimands. I am confined. My parents keep asking me if I miss them, and I have to lie. I have no desire to know them anymore either, and they're too afraid to try and get to know me again. They refuse to let me use my car because they know I'm going to visit my favorite person.

"That's the only reason why," says daddy dearest. "If you weren't with him, we'd let you have your car up there without a second thought."

Penalized for being "in a relationship." For having a best friend, someone to share all of my secrets with, for having faith in someone, loving him with all that I am. I'm being looked down upon.

Am I not good enough? Am I too ugly? Too liberal? Too smart and without enough common sense? Am I too selfish? Opinionated? Quiet? Are you afraid of knowing your own daughter? Is it alright if I'm not exactly the same as the two of you? Can I just have one small air-hole in my cardboard quarters?

I was off to a good start. I used to be really happy when I was a little kid. This past summer I felt like a little kid again and it was exactly what I needed. I just wasn't ready to be thrown into this different world where I'm expected to make mature choices, work on homework religiously, read read read things that I don't give a shit about, work work work when I'm not in class, but without any of the freedom that comes with adulthood. Makes a lot of sense.