"Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be." -Abraham Lincoln

So once upon time I knew this girl not too long ago. She hated things like small towns and thought all she needed was the big city lights. She believed that there was nothing the quiet and sleepy could teach her. She was awake and full of life. Then she moved back to the freeways and trendy restaurants. The familiar was wonderful and the friends, never better.

Something lay underneath the surface. She started to dream of the sleepy streets. It became really hard to get settled in the city. The community college made it hard to transfer, she couldn't find that second job to seal the urban deal, and not all, but lots of friends she loved were in new places with new faces finding themselves without her. The freeways became overwhelming, so many people going to homes she'd never see or ever know.

It kept raining and raining even though it was June. The month of magic and ascending heat was cold and pure reality. This girl just watched too many episodes of Grey's anatomy and put on a smile. She rode along on adventures and laughed at the right times. Deep inside, she was lost.

One afternoon, this girl gave a chosen big sister a phone call. Her big sister asked about had she thought about the small town and returning there. No one had asked her that. Suddenly, everything clicked. All the roads with dead ends suddenly detoured and she realized her life. She found herself two nights after the phone call signing up for classes in the country.

In case you hadn't figured it out this is one of those "I'm going to write something third person to say something important or something that is hard to admit to" stories to explain the last month and a half of my life.

Somehow in some strange way, I figured out that leaving somewhere before you're supposed to is like pulling the roots out to see if something is still growing. Yes, I do hate Price every other day. I hate eating campus food being far away from my family and chosen family(cough cough Kenna).However,I also love how its never smoggy when you wake up in the wintertime. I love that I never see those kids who judged and pointed and whispered with their friends about me because I were a kimono to school in Jr. high at the gas station or at Smith's. Those afternoons where you sleep late in the dorm and read and just don't go to class. The way I talk to everyone for the first time and get to tell them stories and get a non-objective answer. This is my life. With Jesus on my side, I'm going to move forward both city and country. I'm going to complain when Price sucks and when Murray gets a little too high school the next year but I'm done thinking the week or month or year was a mistake. Mourning is for that winter of junior year where you thought your world was ending all the time. For now, I'm just going to live whatever that means.