All my dreams are over now

It‘s astounding how quickly time seems to fly. I feel like I’d just seen Katy Perry yesterday, like I just touched her hand and drove on that lightless road back to Auntie Sherry’s last night. But that was over two weeks ago. Since then, my family and I journeyed through the eastern Midwest for sixteen hours, gas tank after gas tank chasing the precious sunset with the fog and rain on our tails. Eventually, we arrived at our suite in Chicago, with my mother and I sporting slightly smudged eye makeup while we ordered some Chinese takeout from a slightly swanky restaurant near the hotel. Sleepy under bright white lights, I ate my first bowl of wonton soup, ever, taking in the bare view of the suburban Chicago outskirts through the window. I saw the parking lot across the street. The lights were arranged in a grid, and those lights blurred and turned into the caps of perfectly arranged, newly-appointed Navy sailors at the following morning’s ceremony. My brother, Jeroen, was in one of the divisions, carrying a black peacoat. He wore that mandatory black coat for the rest of the day, saving his white uniform from getting drenched in the Chicago city rain. We stood on the Willis Tower’s “Ledge” and looked out onto the foggy, skewed rooftops. And let me tell you, Chicago’s moniker as “the windy city” is no joke; it is, indeed, more than just a little windy up there. And it’s constant. The wind nearly knocked me over once or twice. I saw umbrellas turn inside out and bend and break. Soon, the wind blew my family and uncle and aunt and I into a Greek restaurant in the middle of Greektown. And after that, we hailed a minivan cab back to our respective home bases. The sun set and the stars shined and we slept in our hotel beds for another night. The clock beeped and we dressed and drove to the Naval base to pick up Jeroen for another stroll in the city. This time, the Watertower and Museum of Contemporary Art picked at our attention, before the Navy Pier and a tasty Chicago deep-dish pizza bistro called to us.

Then Sunday came. Our last day. We picked up Jeroen and drove toward Chicago’s vast skyline. He was tense. He knew that in a matter of hours we’d have to part, and he’d spend the next seven months wondering what we’re up to, if we’re playing his PlayStation 3 videogames or not. We toured the top of Willis Tower one last time to see a clear view of the city, the streets, the massive lake, and whatever else lay on the horizon. Pressed for time, we left Chicago before nighttime could settle in. A thirty-minute drive back to the base, and that was it: Jeroen left. It’s unreal. We cried a little. Then we drove back to the city. Fireworks blasted and glowed that night on the Pier. The Lollapalooza crowd, coming from the ending festival, basically conquered the sidewalks.

I was in awe during the entire drive to Chicago.

Shenandoah Valley, VA

I’m in my dorm in Richmond now, at VCU. Of course I miss home. I miss my mother and my father and my brothers. I miss playing my music so loud that the speakers nearly distort the basslines. I miss strumming randomly on my guitar. I miss singing. I miss our 65″ HDTV. I miss family movie night. I miss having the whole house to wander around in. I miss getting yelled at. I miss those inevitable lectures. I miss Disney World. I miss Cabbage Patch Dolls. I miss kindergarten. I miss my old life.

I’m not ready for any of what is to come.

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