No matter how absorbed I am in my trivial problems, this day brings me out of it for a bit. I love my life in this country. I love that there are still safe places to go. Though at times we are one big dysfunctional family full of idiots and geniuses alike, we tend to all be on the same side when it comes to our freedom. We demand it.
I am sitting on a futon on the third floor of my apartment building watching the town fireworks shoot above the rooftops. I love the pops, crackles, and booms. I can't get over the fact that it's 63 degrees and windy outside. I miss that hot, sultry Georgia atmosphere. I am reminded of summer romances as a teenager. Intense, forbidden, and so very exciting with a bit of mystery to them. Somewhere between then and now that generation of guys lost their minds. They rush to the finish line right off the bat. At this point in my life, I'd just assume do without.
The show is over, and the crowd has cheered. We have marked our 233rd year of Independence. Nights like tonight help to foster my courage to make my move East. I am so grateful for the sacrifices of so many to be able to follow my dreams.
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