4th of July

As I sit here, freshly unloaded from the trip back from Oregon, the fantastic dream that was this last weekend fades into the background and reality once again rears it's ugly head.

Tomorrow is the 4th of July, usually a happy holiday, but this year is very different. Throughout my childhood I remember laying out on my parents white flowered quilt watching as the massive explosions above kept me mesmerized and still for longer than my parents thought was ever possible by their seemingly possessed ADHD ingrained child. I remember my parents getting a bucket of chicken from KFC and watching my dad light up fireworks out in the street in front of our house on 20th Avenue. I remember the anticipation of the fireworks... how as soon as the fireworks stands started springing up you would try and spend as much money as you could amass and burn yourself a half-dozen times in the process.

As the years wore on our destructive capabilities, and wallets, grew. We no longer wanted sparklers and poppers, we wanted roman candles and firecrackers, bottlerockets and mortars.

My family, for the last near decade, has gone with the Maves to the fireworks display at CSI. But the Maves are gone. I used to run to Nick and Andy's Apartment and watch them light the mortars I helped them procure at Johnny's Country Store... But now they are gone too.

As I drove through the last several overpasses into Jerome I couldn't help shake the feeling that I was in the wrong place. I don't belong here.

I miss my friends in California. I miss my girlfriend and friends in Oregon. And I miss nothing about this place. This place, to me, is like my private getaway. Twin Falls is my hole-in-the-wall my little corner where no one can find me and I rule the world. I know it will always be here to fall back on if I need to, but I want to get out.

Happy 4th of July everyone. I have to work tomorrow, so I guess think of me when you see the fireworks explode, maybe I'll sit on the roof of my house and watch Jerome and Buhl and Twin's fireworks all at once. Or maybe I'll sit inside and just remember those days long passed where life was nearly perfect... at that beat up apartment with my best friends. The TV on but with the sound of Andy pounding on the keyboard clearly audible...

Andy and Nick... thank you. I can never repay you for how much you gave me. That beat up apartment was home to me. Everytime I go to Twin it still feels wrong not to drive straight to that apartment on Quincy... to know that neither of you guys are around and that I really am alone for once.