This town seems so old. It’s weird to me now, that I’ve missed out on so much. When did that oak tree grow so huge? The playground looked much shinier when I used to play on it. Nothing is the same to how it was back then, and that makes me sad.
When I was young, my friends and I would run through these streets and have the time of our lives; now it’s filled with new kids and different families. After five years, it feels good to be back home. At seventeen, I’d known this small town wasn’t enough for me. I needed to see the world and thought that the world needed to see me. Now I’m 22 and have nothing to show for all of my experiences.
Sure, I can tell you how long of a car ride it is from Miami to Boston, but I can’t tell you what a college class is like. I gave up things when I left that I didn’t realize I’d be leaving; that I didn’t know I would miss. That’s my own fault though, I should have thought about my decision more instead of just packing up and leaving in the night.
The entire time I was gone, I would pick up the phone and chat with my family, let them know I was okay. Sometimes I’d apologize for leaving so abruptly, but for the most part they understood and supported me. You would think that after five years, I wouldn’t be afraid to call the one person I missed the most, the one person who was on my mind day and night. The one person who still made my heart skip a beat whenever I pictured their face. That person was my boyfriend; Colin Ultra.
I don’t know how he took my leaving. I’ve never been able to build up the courage to dial the number that is so well worked into my memory. We were inseparable in high school. He was my first boyfriend, first kiss, first person I made love with. Actually he’s the only person I’ve ever done any of those with. I may have left the small town I grew up in, but it never left me. I’d meet a guy on the road and wonder what could happen, but Colin always pulled me back.
I suppose that what I learned when I was away is that I never should have left at all. However, knowing myself, the only way I could have ever learned that lesson was by leaving. I was never content with just assuming the answer; I had to know for sure. Now, after a long twenty-one hour bus ride, I am walking down Main Street. My house is up another few streets and down a few blocks. I can practically smell it already.
I pass the elementary school where I met Colin and the playground where I broke his arm when I landed on him after falling off the monkey bars. I pass the community pool where I learned to swim. I even walk by the church I used to go to every Sunday to hear Reverend Davis preach to us about how God is our savior. Everything in this town holds a special memory for me and I immediately feel at home.
Colin lived three doors down from me and when I pass his house, I stop and stare at it for a few minutes. How is it possible that I can still be in love with him after five years? He’s twenty three now and probably has a steady girlfriend, and a happy life. He doesn’t need me messing around in it. But I want to, oh my, do I want to be a part of that life.
With a sigh, I start walking in again. I feel a weightlessness wash over me as I turn onto my sidewalk and see the relatively small two story house with a wraparound porch. I take a deep breath as I ascend the stairs and stop in front of the doorway. It’s the middle of autumn and I can smell Mom’s apple pie that she makes ever Thursday, without fail. The door is closed, to keep the cold out, and I don’t know what to do. I could walk in, but nobody’s expecting me. After five years, was this house still my home? I shrug and open the screen door to knock on the wooden one.
I hear my Mom’s voice yelling ‘Just a minute’ and I can imagine her wiping her hands on the apron she always wore in the kitchen. The door swings open and it takes her a minute to realize what she’s looking at. “Rainey Marie!” She always said my full name when she got emotional. Well, my full first name that is. My full name is actually Rainey Marie Sue Clark; kids used to tease me all the time, but I like its uniqueness.
