Its wild to think that, some years back, a large amount of days and hours ago, a version of me that understood even less about the world than he does now, left his house for the last time.

I barely remember that summer, there had a been a scary storm right before Katrina that we half assed evacuated for but it ended up missing us. I was starting 3rd grade and had just learned the word "mathematician". I don't remember what my classroom looked like but I do remember the agendas and journals they gave us that I only got to use for about 2 weeks. They were white with doodled children all over the top, and said "Westwego Elementary 3rd grade".
I remember feeling like I was finally a big kid at school. My classrooms were finally upstairs with the big kids and the world was so big and bright, and we were so curious all we wanted to do was see it all. Like there was a projector sat between us and the coolest thing we had ever seen and all we could do was try to see passed the light.
     I Don't remember leaving, I remember driving, I remember going back for the last time to get our stuff from the house. I remember starting over and joining a new school with 200 other kids from my city. I remember living at my aunts house with most of my family. I remember wondering about my old friends and how they were. I remember one time we were at Walmart and I was buying halo 2 and my neighbor/best friend from back home just happened to be there too, completely out of the blue. The first time I had seen them since the storm at all.

I haven't seen them since, and its been 16 years. I hope they're fine. I drive by that old house pretty often and I never cease to wonder if the kids living in it now are ok. If they live a life anything like my life was in that house. If they have a trampoline in the backyard or if they sometimes walk too far down the street alone and get in trouble.

Its crazy how life happens. There's no plotting the course. There's no hedging your bets. You can only weather the storm.

Whatever they say about loving stuff and letting it go is wildly subjective and skewed into the letting-goers' favor.
      
      When someone's love and the love you have for them is your world, and they simply let you go, how can you ever come back?

Still I agree though, with what they say about living and loving. Life will have hard times regardless, so fill the other times with love. It will always be better to have lived and loved than to not have, no matter how vulnerable it leaves you each and every time.

This year of my life has provided me a bountiful lemon harvest,

My friends and I have gathered the fruit dutifully for the passed few months

I'm proud of the lemonade we've made of them.

From here on out Lemonade will always remind me of these days, scorching hot and full of struggle.

The sweet sensation of quenching your thirst with the fruits of your strife.

I moved back home to my hometown this year.

I hadn't realized how long it had been since I could look at the night sky and see the stars so clearly.

Somewhere in there thats the metaphor isn't it, that it took me coming home to navigate these dark times in my life with the clarity I need.

How easily I swell and deflate,
Like the paper bag you breathe in when you start to hyperventilate,

From your touch I catch fire,
From your glance I freeze over,

I should've tried harder,
To keep my composure.

Somehow we did it,
We carved out a day, a few moments where it felt like nothing mattered except us, at least to me.
Like time wasn't running out and we weren't 25 year olds and the only thing of any importance was what the other had to say next, at least to me.
Laying in your bed we felt like two grains of sand brought together as they were squeezed through the eye of an hourglass, at least to me.
I don't know how we did it but God I would give anything to do it again.