I swear, the worst feeling- okay, not the worst, but on the bad feelings-list, for sure- is regret. When you look back and there was a point and you made a decision and now, of course, now, you can see that you should have chosen the other one, the ther road, the other path. To hell with the road less traveled, because you tripped on all those damn logs and leaves, and here you are, regretting it because you lost. I regret that I tried to make my friendship with him more than it should have been, and now I long- ache- for that friendship again, before we went down that long road one night. And so, I guess you live and you learn. The next time I'm confronted with this possiblity, I will think twice. But I said that last time. So will I?
I'm now the proud owner of a yellow vaccuum cleaner and a black hanging mirror. The very first things for my dorm, besides the comforter.
I read a post about a girl going to college, and she remarks about how scary it was driving into the town: she stared at the streets, the restaurants, the shopping centers, the tiny roads that led nowhere and somewhere, and she wondered how she could make it home. I did the same thing, the last time I was in Tuscaloosa, and I'm certain I will again when I arrive, as my parents drive away and I realize that this is home. She remarks, though, that five years later, she left that town, and it was her home in more ways than she could count. That she would have given anything for one more day , one more hour, in it.
I pray to God that I will feel the same way.