I am so upset that after all these years the fantasy just had to come crashing down like this. As a child, I really thought I'd just come to a point where I'd outgrow this; but the fact of the matter is, I'm still deeply affected by these hurts and pains from years ago, and it's so annoying. Honestly, I shouldn't still care, but I do care and I'm disappointed that I care. Quick, fast, and in-a-hurry, I absolutely must get out of the south. There's nothing left for me here; quite frankly, there was never really that much to begin with. Alabama is always going to be a home to me, but I am no longer attached to this fantasy. The south does not belong to me, and I don't not belong to it. I am, but merely, the consequences of my own given circumstances. The south has never intended to make space for me, but I am the result of my father's prayers. I am beyond grateful for the lessons I have learned here, but the sacrifice has been way greater than the reward, and in the silence of this pandemic I recognize now that these are simply growing pains. To free myself of this situation I have to be willing to let go. I cannot find peace in a place where my ancestors were slaves. I deserve to enjoy the life I choose to live, and I cannot do that here. I am scared of the person I am becoming, because I am afraid I might not recognize him, but they will be freer than they ever been before. I am fully capable of being a better person, and I am committed to becoming that person by any means necessary; even if that means unlearning everything that I've come to know.