I’ve been feeling pretty nostalgic for a while now so this post has been a given for a while now. Almost five years ago, I moved. Away from everything I knew and everything/I everyone I loved. I moved with my parents to a condo in what I thought was the middle of nowhere. February 12, 2007. I thought it was the worst day of my life. My parents were ruining my life. They had to be. Well, I was wrong. That house ended up being one of the best things to ever happen to me. I’ve never been able to admit it until now, but it was.
Yes, I did fuck my education while I was there; having only lived in one city most of my life, I’d only ever been enrolled in one school district. That’s all I had ever known. And my parents took that away from me. That’s all I could think, my parents were responsible for making me move away, so obviously everything was their fault. No, it wasn’t. I was wrong. I could have sucked it up and gone to school but instead, I didn’t go. I fought my parents every morning until they enrolled me in an online high school. I told them it would be a better alternative for me. It wan’t. I went through two of those. Didn’t graduate. Now, I did end up getting a GED but I’ll talk about that some other time as it has nothing to do with this particular blog. It was my fault. With fighting my parents so much, I pretty much ruined my relationship with them and well, the rest of my family also. I made a lot of mistakes while I live in that house but all in all, I think they’ve helped to shape the person I am today. If it weren’t for those mistakes, I wouldn’t be the Ashley my friends and family have come to love. I wouldn’t be me.
The point of this wasn’t really to talk about that. It just sort of happened. I intended to make note of all the good things that happened in the time I lived there. My two best friends had so much to do with me being able to cope with living so far away. They came over nearly every weekend and every other chance they had while I lived there. We had so many good times. I couldn’t have kept my sanity while living there without them.
This bedroom. Oh my, so many memories. Not to sound stupid or anything but I’m going to bullet these instead of making the longest sentence in existence.
Torres Productions in the bathtub.
Shaving Laura’s legs.
Slides in the snow.
Getting my temps.
Mac’n’cheese and mashed potatoes.
Batman and Robin
Therapy sessions with “Dr. Ashley”
“Don’t throw rocks in the lake! It’s going to overflow!”
Teaching/ trying to teach people to drive
Driving around the subdivision
The playground at the church over the hill
The yappy dog across the street
Changing a diaper for the first time.
Bathing suit showers
Everyone going through the emo phase.
Air mattress rides
Paramore birthday cake
Hot guy across the street
Hot guys girlfriend
Ass hole across the street that called me a bitch
Creepy Asian man downstairs (No, I’m not being racist.)
There are probably way more, I just can’t remember a whole lot right now since I’m half asleep right now. :P
I think my reasons for thinking about all of this so much is that I’ve been talking to some people about moving out of my parents house soon and it’s just brought up a bunch of old memories. I’m not trying to say that I want to go back. I’m not trying to upset myself. I think I’m trying to let go of the past so I can move on. What I’m trying to say is that this is my way of letting go. I’ve been holding on to this for so long and saying such terrible things about the time I spent in this place that I let the bad memories stick out in my mind more than the good ones. I need to change that. I’ve needed this for a long time now and I’ve just realized that tonight. I did so much growing up in that place, I just couldn’t stand to let it go. But the time has come. I need to get on with my life. I know my parents will probably (hopefully) never read this but, Mom and Dad, I’m sorry for being so horrible to you for all of these years since the condo. If I could take back every nasty, smart ass remark I made, trust me I would. I’m sorry.