i drive through my hometown, trying to stare as straight ahead as possible; trying to keep my head as straight as possible. nostalgia is nagging at me. here is where i kissed my first boy, broke my first limb, and went through puberty. i spent 12 years learning in this school system.

westfield has become a ghost town for me. an empty shell which used to house and hold all of loves of my life. everyone has scattered now, including me. i knew none of us would end up here, but i didn't picture we'd all end up so far apart. 

the truth is, whenever i've tried to imagine my future, it's all too fuzzy; a channel that doesn't quite come in. i try to imagine myself having aged 10 or 20 years. i can't. will i still change my hair so frequently long after vanity has grown tired? will there be someone to share my life with? will i be a mother; will i have to get a mom haircut and a minivan? will i live somewhere like westfield, somewhere where my offspring will eventually and ultimately get as far away from as they can stand? (for me it wasn't so far.)

i haven't figured out where i feel the most "right" yet. but i truly believe i will find it.

and i find my own faith inspiring.