Listen, I'd love to let you in on all of the secrets that swim through my thoughts on a mission to disrupt my progress. But that would mean laying my cards out on the table. And I hate card games. I'm not one for saying what I mean. If I were, you could read me like a low level book...so feel free to misconstrue what I say next.
It's interesting being here. I feel like an interesting person. I'm in Logan... again. And I love it here. I love the atmosphere, the people, the thought of me one day being a big girl. I love it all. Interesting. The best word I can think of right now. Granted, that might be because it's only four minutes from striking 1 AM, but then again, I have been known for my late night thinking skills. So that too is interesting.
Why do I feel good here? Why do I feel like it's the place for me? Beats me. No. Like almost quite literally. I am bewildered by the concept. It would have been about eight times easier to go to college twenty minutes from home. Why didn't I? I'd shrug my shoulders in confusion if there were any people looking at me. I have no idea whatsoever. But I love it. Because I feel...interesting. In a good way.
I feel like I haven't felt since Michael Phelps outstretched his arms in the 2008 summer Olympics, revealing quite the wingspan.
I feel shiny and brand new like a green car in the August heat.
Like a fresh bowl of raspberry sherbet ice cream with hardened gummy bears and more than one spoon.
Like I never wrote a single thing about the way I felt because I'd never felt that way before.
I finally feel like I don't remember the smell of Curve, or the offbeat of Pineapple Rag.
Because being so far away makes me feel safe, like I don't ever have to remember those things that force my memory to be cruel. And it's new to me.
So I feel interesting.