1, 196 miles & 19 hours away

5

     Last time I got depressed about home I drew a map of my utmost collective images of what I used to have. 

      When I lived there, I woke up in a room bigger then the one I have now. When I wanted to sneak out I had a door leading in my room to our front porch. Our kitchen was green. We had a big living room with hard wood floors. I had a bigger closet, and when I needed a shower I used my parents bathroom. 

     Last week, I looked up my address and saw our house for sale. The guy made a video of pictures, and for a second the house I grew up in felt real. It hit me that I had actually left for good this time.

      I think about that place all the time. I compare my hallway to my bedroom door. I compare the way the grass feels to the Arizona concrete burning my feet. Sometimes when I'm walking down my street I wonder what happened to all the cubicles of houses I once grew up in. 

     I still have ever place in my head memorized. Like when we went to The Yuma Civic Center for that concert. How we made fun of Rhiannon for flirting with every guy that was there. This was us on the bleachers talking trash when Jesus music played in the background.

     That part with the rip in the fence at youth group. How everyone would get mad cause the ball we were playing with went go on the other side. 

     Joel would have to run through the hole to get to it. In my head I would hold back that feeling. I felt like screaming at him that you liked him at the time.

      That Taylor Swift 1989 album as we walked to the shorter mountain of Telegraph Pass. 

      I don't remember what we were even talking about. 

     Just the blood you had on your hand. That water bottle was there sitting among a canvas of rocks. 

     Though you were saying "YOLO" as you poured probably a one month sit out of water onto your scratched hand. I was taking Snapchat stories on your phone. I didn't have one of my own at the time.

     Those Easter egg hunts at the library when we were 13. Probably even older that that. 

     This is us complaining about the lack of organization cause we only got two eggs, and our parents never let us do anything that day but go to the library.

     Laughing so hard in your car cause that druggie song came on as we pulled into church. I don't even remember the song lyrics. I just remember thinking how ironic it felt. Then how mad you were at the new youth pastor cause she was being really rude to you when we showed up late. This was us leaving the church half way through cause it wasn't the same like we remembered it.

     One thing I will always remember the most from you is that you were the last person at my house. You were there helping us move our stuff.

     Debbie was talking a lot. My mom was saying how we're gonna be pulling out soon. 

     None of my other friends even texted me if I made it to Oregon okay. You don't even understand how much that meant to me, and how much it still means to me that today you're still willing to go to the length of keeping in contact with me. 

     It's almost been a year since I've been back. I still keep in touch with a few of my friends, but only monthly text replies. 

     With you it seems like we never have something new to tell each other.