i was packing up my apartment just putting books in boxes to be taken to my new house and boxes to be taken home to indiana. i got a little emotional i was flipping through the incredible scrapbook in which my father (the best father around) put together for me. it is a collaboration of my entire running career in high school. it is complete with race results, pictures, notes, bibs, and newspaper clippings.
there is one picture imparticular that could rival against all others to win the title "my favorite picture, ever". it is a picture of my dad and i after i had run my smartest, fastest race (at that time) in arguably one of the top 5 hardest semi-states in the nation (for all you lovers of class cross country, here's a big fat screw you, in indiana we do it big and if you are the champion, you solely possess the state crown) this was a picture of my sophomore year when i first made it to state. i was euphoric. my dad embraced me and i embraced him back after running to search for him after the race! you can sense the emotions.
as i sit here crying over lost time and capture memories, i dwell on the fact that i am 21 soon to be 22-years old. when i was 16 i wanted to grow up and thought i had the worst parents ever. even when i was 18 i couldn't wait to leave and start my own life. now that i am 22 and the real world is knocking even louder on my door, i am frightened and all i want to do is go home to the comfort and dictatorship of my own indiana home. i don't like this freedom business. it feels more like a prison. i don't want to grow up, ever.
where did the last 6 years go?