I came to this conclusion today, while hanging out with Courtland and Gianna and discussing where we thought we’d be in nine years (because that’s when our 10-year high school reunion would be).
After this summer, and after this internship, I don’t ever want to come back to Las Vegas for a period longer than a month, max. This place isn’t home anymore. I mean, it’ll always be the place I grew up, and the place where I am comfortable with giving directions and going around in. It will always be the home of some of my friends and most of my family.
But as I sat on (itchy) grass on this (little) hill and looked at the lights from this (wannabe ) park, I realized that I don’t want to live here. Not in this flat, barren, dry and hot desert.
I love this city, but it just isn’t for me. I just hope that I’m able to hold true to this statement.
Obviously, if this is what I’m contemplating, then I’m bored out of my mind. I need something to do to keep me busy, and soon, before I go insane.