Summer Story
Sitting underneath the cool shade of an old maple tree on the quad, my chipped purple toe nails burrowing into summer grass and the sweet scent of the wind reminds me of a far less scholarly time. I am here, by choice, in the midst of summer, preparing for a Pretty Big Deal. And I can't help but think of another time, when the spring days reeked of the promise of summer, and what was supposed to be just a lunch hour turned into a truant day turned into many days where I decided school just did not matter. I chased the wind and followed the river, wandered the woods and skinny dipped in the water. It was the first time I dropped out of school, followed by a few more tumultuous attempts to be normal and do what was expected of me. And now here I am, the future version of that wanderlust girl, attempting to put aside the story of myself as a failure and write a new story: myself as a success, on the brink of grad school.
This is where I belong. Now I just need to make myself believe it and become it. Now I just need to prove it to myself, right down to the core.
