Your walls bleed green. They always have. While I’ve been in them, I bled green, too. A part of me always will.
Your walls hold memories from my whole life. Those of a little girl running around in the darkness, trying to scare her siblings and pretending that there are monsters chasing her. A little girl who sat at the big desk and played school with her best friend. A little girl who idolized the people who walked through your halls and couldn’t wait to be one of them so she could call you hers.
You hold the memories of a middle schooler preparing for the treacherous walk through snow and rain to her own school. Who played hide-and-seek within your walls while she waited to go home. Who memorized each of your twists and turns so that when she finally belonged here, she didn’t have to worry as much. A middle schooler who got so many opportunities taken away from her but didn’t care because soon she would have the freedom that you brought her, and that was all she looked forward to.
You hold the memories of a teenage girl who, despite having loved you her whole life, came to learn that her reality wasn’t going to be as perfect as her fantasies were. A teenage girl who went through so much but found herself a home within it all. A teenage girl who is now having to say goodbye to everything she has ever loved and leave it all behind as she starts this new life.
I love this place. It holds a special place in my heart, and it always will. I don’t understand the people who say that they never want to return. Some have a reason. Some just want to move on. But I’ll always love it here. I’ll always love to be surrounded by my memories. I know that no matter how far I go, a part of me will continue to reside here, and I know that I will always want to return.
This has been the setting of my whole life. The setting of countless nights under the lights. The setting of many dances that end with hurt feet and a craving for fried food. The setting of all of the days and nights sitting in that cold theater, praying that nothing goes wrong. Although my story is not ending, and the scenes that surround me will change, this will always be the beginning of my story.
I don’t want to be sad about the end. I don’t want to look back at this place and remember the heartbreak that I’m sure I’ll inevitably feel. I don’t want to spend the next four months focusing on what’s coming. I want to remember the last four years. The last ten years. The last seventeen years. All of them I’ve spent here.
Even though the end is coming, I know that I will always have a part of me here and will always cherish the time I spent in this building. I have loved every second of the last seventeen years here, and I know that you will always be here when I get back.
Aubrey • Jan 26, 2025 at 8:38 pm
I love this. Please dont leave me.