May 16th, 2016. My mom hates the dentist, but I always thought the orthodontist was much worse. Jaw aching and mouth dry, listening to an old man debate over what he can fix.
I wrote this at the beginning of November 2021, during my first semester at college. In being away from home, the most challenging part was not being able to swim in the ocean or any body of water, something I have long taken for granted. I missed the feeling of being submerged in water and coming back out of it into real life, all cold and recharged.
Homeroom always started with prayer, and my teacher, Mrs. Stein, always asked the class if there was someone or something we wanted to devote some extra thought and prayer to. I never said anything.
“I’ll tell you when you’re eighteen,” she sniffled, as she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My mother was sitting on the ledge by the window, roughly brushing tears from her cheeks
Desperate to prove
There’s something more within me.
We arrived in Pennsylvania in the summer. Perhaps that was why I was not yet wary and vigilant as I should have been, as I told myself I would be. The slow and idyllic heat reminded me of the best parts of Georgia, before the air turned febrile and violent with the agitation of summer storms.