the story of the hurricane

Maybe there is a reason there are High School reunions every ten, twenty, thirty years ... and then they taper off as everyone moves on with their "real" lives. Don't get me wrong, I adore my childhood friends - they have seen me as the kid who fearlessly rode her sled over the cement at the sump, they have seen me as the wild child at beach parties drunk on stolen gin, and they are the people I really have some of my fondest memories with. However, when is the fact that you spent the first 18 years of your life with people not enough?

I like to think of myself as the elusive, mysterious one. The one who got out of town and never came back. Obviously, that's not happening. I'm stuck here until the end of the summer (if not longer the way things are looking). When I was away, other than a short "hi" message on myspace, or a meetup at a holiday or funeral, I had no contact with most of the people I now see on a daily basis. And, honestly, that was okay. You can love people and not see them - you can love people and not talk to them. (Hey, check out my most recent ex! Zing!) It just was, as we found ourselves, we found and created our own lives. Mine was made up of sweet southern dive bars, cheap beer, and loud music. Theirs was made of all the things our lives were like in High School.

It's nice to come home, to feel a part of something. This will always be home, and we will always have our childhoods to cling to. Besides from a select few (I think I can count two, maybe three) there's nothing left. There's nothing to base a real, grownup friendship with. Sure, we go out drinking together, and they hook me up at their bars, and we share cabs home. It's great. But at this point, I feel like the vacations over, and again, it's time for me to leave this sweet/horrible place and move somewhere I can be me - not the person I was growing up. I'm different now, i'm more bitter, less crazy, more cynical, less hilarious. That's okay, that's growing up. I'm just sorry if I dissapointed anyone when I came back a bitter, jaded, tattooed wanna be redneck.