Sometimes

I hate it here, always have. I didn't realise it at first, i was tricked into thinking it was some paradise but as i grew older my views quickly changed.

When i was twelve i began to grow bored of this town, twelve and a half and i didn't like it anymore. When it came around to my thirteenth birthday, i couldn't wait to run away from here. I felt trapped and secluded from the outside world. Like a giant prison with unmarked boundaries.

Of course i was way too young to move out, but i was not too young to start planning it. So on my thirteenth birthday i took half my birthday money and put it in a jar and then promptly placed that mason jar in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I decided i was going to start saving for when i moved out in five years. My plan? Well i knew i wanted to move somewhere far far away but did not want to have to learn a new language. So i chose England, London to be exact. The best place to move to get rid of that sickly sweet small town vibe.

I could rent a cheap flat or maybe get a roomate and go from there. I would never have to set foot back here again except for the occasional trip home which wouldn't last long and then I'd be back to my flat in London.

Four years ago tommorrow i made this plan and it was still in action. I managed to get a minimum wage job to help save and i wasn't planning on going to college, atleast not in the U.S so i had made a good amount of progress in my stash. Tommorrow started the countdown. Only a year to go and i was out of here. I couldn't be more excited.