Make Way For Gray

appreciate (n.) 

to value or regard highly

    It's a shame I have to begin with a cliché, but furthermore, my sadness stems from the thought that people don't truly understand the candor of it: you do not know what you have until it's gone. 

    I lived in Colorado for 20 years and grew too comfortable and familiar with it. It didn't help I lived in a town with a small population, about 14,000. I got into a really terrible physical fight with a childhood friend. I dropped out of nursing school. My best friend recently moved to Utah with her amazingly perfect son (my god-son). Things just really started to look bleak for me. 

    One cold, winter day, I had a conversation with my aunt who was visiting for the holidays. We decided that it would be best for me if I moved to Florida with her and her family. I was ecstatic! I was so eager to get away from the weed and partying and shady friends I revolved my life around for the previous five years. It was time to get away and to start fresh. 

    I spent almost two months working at a nursing home, not really seeing anyone, and counting down my days until I ascended to the sunny state. I threw a party the night before I left. It had a fairly decent turn-out. One of my exes showed up and reminded me why he resided in my past. My best guy friend and I got shwasted and danced to the "Macadelic" songs that blared from my speakers. My good friend drunkenly chased my dog around and took care of her all night. Good times....

    The flight was easy and only lasted for three hours. I listened to music the entire time and looked out my window. I love that sight. It feels like you're in a Sims game, towering over the different shades of green and brown patches that stitch together and make an agricultural blanket for the earth. I love being amid white, fluffy clouds and daydreaming about jumping out of the plane; pretending that the clouds would rearrange their consistency just for me and support my weight. Sure, I pictured my plane crashing as well. I came up with hypothetical situations that could arise and how I would handle myself. Nothing happened, though. I landed safely at Jacksonville International Airport on a rainy, February night. 

    I would like to say that my first couple months in Florida were fun and exciting, but in all honesty, they weren't. My uncle is a homebody, and although he has an impressive income, he doesn't use his money to travel or to go out on the weekends. He makes sure his alcohol stash is supplied plentifully and tucks the rest of his earnings in savings for his retirement. I was so used to hanging out with friends and throwing/going to parties. When I got to Florida, I had absolutely no friends and my aunt & uncle didn't know anyone my age, either. I spent the first few weeks with my 10-year-old cousin, but after a while, her naive antics were no longer funny or cute. I wanted to socialize with someone on my level. I wanted to laugh at Seth Rogen bromance movies. I wanted to talk about Tyler, the Creator and how he impacts the music industry. I wanted to talk about the Christian book I was reading and get intelligent, thought-provoking feedback. Want in one hand, shit in the other.

    I got a part-time job at a clothing store. I was hoping to meet a friend there; someone to give me an excuse to get out of the house. Four months later, I still haven't found anyone. There are a few people who I get along with great, but it mostly stays at work. No one compares to my friends from Colorado. The ones that send me daily SnapChats saying how much they miss me (Kisha), the ones who send me letters and brighten my days (Robbie), the ones who used Throwback Thursday to devote a picture and paragraph to our wonderful memories (Nicole), or the ones who spent late nights talking me out of my terrible mood (Kyli). People in Florida don't seem to have much substance to me. 

    It's incredibly strange to me that now that I'm financially stable and live in a big, majestic house like I have always dreamed of, I'm the most unhappy I have been in a long time. This "rich" life filled with healthy food, a gym membership, a car that was actually made in the 21st century, and plenty of time to lounge around has actually panned out to be unfulfilling. 

    I am in awe of the beauty in Florida. The flowing green plant life and the diverse animal life contrasts the bland plains of where I'm from. There are more beautiful African-Americans than I'm used to and the respect strangers have for each other is unreal. However, I find myself missing my "poor" ways of life that I'm used to. 

    I have no clue what's holding those four walls up, but I have had so many great times and memories in that rickety trailer. My true friends know they're always welcomed and I don't have to hide anything. I found my own ways of entertainment and I had my stupid siblings to keep me on my toes. I was too busy trying to see a mirage in front of me that I didn't see what was right there all along. Don't get me wrong; I am infinitely thankful that I was given the opportunity to live halfway across the country and out of my comfort zone. But... I just want to be happy again.

    I wonder when I will look my own grass with the admiration I look at my neighbor's.