As I was sitting here in retrospect, I realized that leaving things behind is becoming easier and easier. I'm not sure whether it's a negative or positive attribute. It's both, I suppose, and soon enough I'm leaving all of this behind again- temporarily, I hope.
Two months were spent basking in the California sun (my arms have already gotten darker), driving from city to city, falling in love with San Francisco, constantly falling asleep in the backseat of cars, putting future plans and College in heavy consideration, curling up in a couch watching Supernatural episodes nonstop with a coffee in my left hand and a remote control in the other, worrying about classes I've been missing, stalking thrift stores, hoarding more books, and whispering to the speaker of my phone at five am underneath a blanket and a mass of pillows. Two months sounds so long when you say it, but really, it's just no time at all.
Throwing my worries of missed classes, Physics, and Math aside, I'm graduating this year. And then what's left for me is the rest of my life. If my emotions were a blender you'd find a mixture of trepidation, excitement, sadness, and then finally to top everything off, resignation. Leaving things behind can be difficult, especially when there's no assurance of ever coming back. But you have to keep doing it anyway.
Seventeen and studying Psychology. I like books, coffee, lyricism, magic hour, (in)signifcant moments, free-verse poetry, mental disorders, female anatomy, pretty smiles, late night conversations, and the time it takes for two people to transcend the boundary between strangers and friends.
I keep sadness at bay by constantly falling in love with the little things in life. My name is Anna and this is where I try to write.
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