Crashed on the floor when I moved in.
This little bungalow with some strange new friends
Stayed up too late and I’m too thin
We promise each other it’s til the end
Vanessa Carlton’s White Houses rings in my ears as I reminisce on the euphoric whirlwind that was my college experience. Late nights and long-term jokes, hard moments and learning to become adults together; as I type in my childhood bedroom, it’s almost too much to recall.
I am exactly the opposite of small town; in fact, I went to the largest high school in the state with a town population to match. I am eccentric, outgoing, and I make friends easily, without having to divulge too much information about myself because I tend to stay relatively guarded. It is easy to blend in when there are thousands around you; it is easy to standout when you’re used to competing in a crowd.
When I went to college, I had no intention of leaving part of myself in a new city. I loved my hometown (and still do, in fact); I spent the first 18 years of my life in the same bedroom of the same house, on the same street with the same friends. No changes meant no heartaches, and I was absolutely okay with that.