Coming home is so odd. Before, when I actually wanted to come home, I would look around, seeing all the things that were familiar, that brought up memories. I just wanted to sink back into my old life. Now, I drive around and feel like I'm at a museum exhibit. A weird, changing exhibit that only has faint ties to who I am right now. And all I want to do is be back at school with my friends. All you people that I miss SO much. I want to hug Whitney and Peggy, cuddle and squeal with Emily at Smallville, make fun of serious stuff with Michelle, tell Jessie that I hate her... And lots of other stuff. Lie out in the courtyard. But no. I'm here. Here with my parents who I love dearly, but have outgrown. I never thought I'd be tired of home. I never thought I'd understand why people were so eager to go back. Now I do...
Though I don't miss the Collins soap-opera. Being Peggy's conscience was tiring. Though I really wasn't. I enjoyed the fact that she called me her good angel, perhaps a little too much. But I didn't think she would do anything. She's too nice a person and that would be too mean to Adam. Not that he doesn't deserve it. But Peggy wouldn't be that cruel. And it would be hard on her, too. Though the whole thing was entirely too hard on her. You're too good for that shit, Peggy. You shouldn't have to deal with it.