Wishing

Often I find myself wishing that I had gone to school farther away than I did. I go on Facebook and I see my high school classmates having the time of their lives at school. I could have gone to Los Angeles, or Louisiana or even Georgia. Instead, I went to school in New Haven and I find myself complacent. I’m not happy here. No one has heard of my school – no one! I mean, I say the name to people and I am answered with an empty glaze. I have no friends here and the school is an English village.

I hate it.

I just want to run away.

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