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Sometimes the shortest distances are the hardest to cross
I drove by J's old house today, on my way back from getting my oil changed. Whoever bought it is renovating and repainting now. I didn't really expect it to bother me as much as it did.
They've pulled out all of the plants that her mom had planted on either side of the driveway and had repainted the door. Those were really little things, I guess, but it completely changed the house.
Someone told me that someone has spraypainted "You don't belong here" on both the house and driveway.
There are so many memories of I have of hanging out with everyone there. The summer before my senior year, I remember everyone learning try to swing dance in her driveway; I remember the time a Mack truck took a wrong turn down her street and we guided the driver out again and he gave us all money for ice cream; all the times we just hung out, playing Tekken 2 or Frogger; the night everything fell apart for me; times we just congregated. It's all gone now and the people there have no idea of what had happened there. J's gone, moved to the Cape.
Sometimes, still being here makes me sad. I don't keep in touch, really, with anyone from high school, except for a couple people. Sometimes the shortest distance is the one that's hardest to cross.
They've pulled out all of the plants that her mom had planted on either side of the driveway and had repainted the door. Those were really little things, I guess, but it completely changed the house.
Someone told me that someone has spraypainted "You don't belong here" on both the house and driveway.
There are so many memories of I have of hanging out with everyone there. The summer before my senior year, I remember everyone learning try to swing dance in her driveway; I remember the time a Mack truck took a wrong turn down her street and we guided the driver out again and he gave us all money for ice cream; all the times we just hung out, playing Tekken 2 or Frogger; the night everything fell apart for me; times we just congregated. It's all gone now and the people there have no idea of what had happened there. J's gone, moved to the Cape.
Sometimes, still being here makes me sad. I don't keep in touch, really, with anyone from high school, except for a couple people. Sometimes the shortest distance is the one that's hardest to cross.