Or…(a flashback to high school)

Flashback: piss poor speakers blaring Lil Wayne in our small town. I, embarrassed, ask you to turn it down. You, headstrong, ignore me.

We are unhappy. We are not meant to be in this car, listening to this song, in this town. We are not meant to be together at all.

And yet that moment, a moment that I have lived so many times, on so many days, is something I remember best about you (or us). Our differences so fucking clear–but we were too comfortable (or too afraid of change).

So I listened to that fucking Lil Wayne song so many times that my tongue recognized the lyrics, my feet the tempo–until I understood that I never should have been listening in the first place.

How to fall in love with a place you grew up resenting…

Leave and see what the rest of the world has to offer you.

Move to a city that feels like another country, even if it’s in the same state.

Face the people who point out your differences with their eyes.

Discover living in a world where timing is everything, especially during rush hours.

Make an amount of money that seemed out of reach before.

Realize that said money isn’t even enough to pay an electricity bill.

Feel lonely in a room full of people because no one smiles at strangers.

Figure out that diversity doesn’t mean acceptance.

Experience suburban claustrophobia.

Dream about the beauty you grew up ignoring.

Go home and remember you were lucky.

So lucky.