As I sit in my bedroom at my parents house (I don’t feel like this is home anymore), I realize I’m surrounded by the remnants of a person that I used to be. Autographed posters of boy bands who are no longer together. Books I read for high school, but never touched again. A bulletin board of ticket stubs, random pins, and various pictures of others and myself from years past. Half burnt candles and barely used lotions scatter the mantle and vanity. A fake rose given to me after a performance in the high school talent show.
The most haunting of them all though is four pink letters surrounded by pictures. “Life” it reads. As I look at the pictures, it’s an array of events that I once believed were the best days of my life. Most of the faces are ones I hardly know anymore; people I see here and there, but few words are exchanged in between. At one point, this was my life. I was who I thought I wanted to be. That was until I left, leaving the life I used to have behind me in a Subaru rear view mirror.
Two and a half years doesn’t seem like a long time, but I feel as though the photos on my wall are from an eternity ago. An era that my mind doesn’t seem to enjoy wandering, too. Simply because, while the memories are pleasant, the emptiness I feel looking at those photos reminds me of why I left it all behind. The feelings of having a large group of friends, but no one to call my best friend. The thoughts of feeling as though I couldn’t do anything right, even if I was just trying to say what was on my mind. The inner turmoil that came from feeling on the outside even though I was a part of the group.
Now my life can be found in three suitcases sprawled across the floor waiting to be packed up again in a couple of days. My home is Nashville now, but more importantly, home is the love and friendship I’ve found with those I’m close to. I’m in a place where I surround myself with people who are good for me and the person that I’ve become. My dreams are coming closer to reality with each passing day. Most importantly though, I’m finding myself; who I am and who I want to be.
Life is always going to be a four letter word, but I’m starting to realize that what really matters are the memories and people found in the photos around it.