Friday, September 28, 2007


I’m at Mom and Dad’s house, organizing my bedroom. I’ll return to my apartment tonight, after my soccer game. It will be the last night I spend there.

I always thought that, when I moved out of my apartment, it would be due to something big. A move to Chicago. Relocation to New York. A job in downtown Detroit with a commute that would be more convenient from a suburb I actually liked.

Not moving back home merely for the sake of moving back home on the eve of my 25th birthday.

I can hear the high school’s – my high school’s – marching band warming up for the football game tonight. It feels like a night for high school football.

It feels like, at any second, my friends’ parents will start dropping them off at our house. That I’ve been checking my hair in the mirror every two seconds for hours...or at least ever since I got home from school. That I will slip on my varsity jacket – my most prized possession (especially during my freshman year, when I had one before all of my peers) – and out the door. That my friends and I will walk up to our high school, just down the block, giggling with excitement about the prospect of a few hours of socializing, flirting, and maybe watching a few downs of high school football.

It feels like nothing has changed.

That I’m still 15, not 25.

I would like to say that I’m far from that life.

But here I am, in my bedroom, listening to the marching band.

My varsity jacket is still hanging in the front closet.


Stace said...

Sometimes I like to think I'm that young still. And then of course I get a bill to pay in the mail. Although I must say I'm glad I've grown, matured and moved on.

OC said...

Happy Birthday!

There's nothing wrong with moving home. You have legit reasons for doing so, and you know that you can leave at any time. You've been out, on your own... and this is just a transition.

Lauren said...

My varsity jacket still hangs in my parents front closet too...

Blog Template by Delicious Design Studio