The look on his face? I almost dropped dead, but it was for the best, for me and for him. How does a plant grow new roots when they already have them? They can’t. He needs to move on with someone better than me, and I need to focus on the next part of my life. It was what’s best. I’m sure of it.
It’s not just about him, either. It’s about everything I’m leaving behind—the memories, the girls, Grant. They won’t be close to me anymore, and all I’ll have with them are phone calls and video chats instead of sitting around in that same classroom, talking about the books we’ve been reading.
I’m going to miss the closeness, but at least phones exist. At least I still have them in the only way I can.
As I stare out of the window, I think about who I was four years ago when I got to Grand Mountain. I wasn’t shy, but I was quiet. I was determined to make it through college on my own, knowing that switching my major would make my parents withdraw their help.
“You’re destined to be alone, Amelia.”
Those were the last words my mom said to me before I left. I didn't bother sticking around to ask what she meant by that, but I’m sure my relationship with my family will only become more strained now.
I’m nervous, I’m scared, but this was the right move. This opportunity was too good to pass up. Part of me wants to rub it in my parents' faces, because they were wrong about me. They were wrong about me being a lazy, unmotivated kid. They were wrong about me when they said changing my major was a waste of time, that I’d always be behind in life.
But I got this job right out of college. I’m moving to an entirely different country because of it. Despite my parents not believing in me, I did this all myself. I’m proving them wrong, and I’ve been proving them wrong the entire time.
This decision might have been a little impulsive, but everything fell into place after I accepted the offer at the London office. I felt good about it. I still feel that way; I guess I’m just a little unsure of what my life is going to look like going forward. These feelings are normal, I’m sure of it. This is one of those scary, life-changing moments some songs talk about when you finally grow up and head into the real world.
As I look out onto the clouds in the sky, I take a big deep breath, hoping the air will fill my lungs up and I’ll be able to breathe again.
Goodbye for now, Grand Mountain.
2
Now — September 2025
I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers
I’vealwaysthoughtflightswere the perfect place to think.
The last time I was on one was after I went to visit my friends. I remember that trip as if it was yesterday, but the memories hit me square in the gut this time instead of being warm and fuzzy.
I adjust my headphones, looking at the dark and depressing clouds outside the window that match my choice of music for the plane ride home.
Home.
It’s odd I used to think of it as such. England has been my home for two years, two long years that, when I think back on them, feel never ending. But now, I’m headed back to the place I’m from—Virginia.
I pull the sleeves of my hoodie down, doing my best to shrivel into a ball in my window seat. I learned a lot about myself over these past two years—not all good or bad things. It’s been a bit of a mixed bag, but I’m headed back to Virginia, determined for a do-over.
Not only did I grow up in Virginia, but I went to college close to my house. All my life, I had been in this little bubble of my hometown. I started feeling jittery during junior and senior year of college. It always happens like that. I’ll be content for a while, and I’ll finally get into a routine, only for my mind and body to feel restless when that odd feeling hits my stomach.
Maybe I don’t belong here. Maybe I don’t belong with these people.
It always comes. It happened to me when I was younger, so I begged my parents to switch schools, and thankfully, they let me. In high school, I had this group of close friends, but I never felt like anyone's best friend or first choice. The jitters lasted until we all graduated and went our separate ways. I never talked to any of them again after we all went to college. My entire life, I’ve been on the outside looking in, and being alone has been the only thing that has ever made sense to me.
I feel the same way when I think of my family. I’ve always felt so disconnected from them; none of us ever talked about feelings or anything deep. Everything was surface level, and I never wanted to tell them when I was having a hard time, which was almost always, especially when I was younger. I was always called a distraction to my classmates because I could never sit still. My mind was constantly wandering to a million different things because I couldn't focus, and I was not the best student.
My older brother is the golden child, and I always felt like I was just…around. Steven is perfect. He’s smart, athletic. He got a thousand scholarships and excellent grades because he’s just sofucking perfect.
I, of course, had to be the one to disappoint them. It took me an entire year to figure out that becoming a doctor was not for me. I didn't enjoy it at all; not only were the classes hard, but another profession began calling to me throughout my sophomore year. I was distracted, getting terrible grades, and even though I knew they would disapprove, I switched my major to journalism when I was a sophomore.
I know they’re disappointed in what I’ve chosen to do with my life, I know they’re disappointed inme, but I wouldn't have survived medical school. I could barely survive undergrad in the major I started in. So, I took it upon myself to create my own path separate from what they always wanted.
Do I regret it? Maybe. I’ve found myself reflecting a lot over the past few months about the decisions I’ve made, and looking back, I can’t tell if it was me actually making the choices I did, or if it was my stupid chemically imbalanced brain.
My decision to start seeing my therapist was one that only could have come from hitting rock bottom, which happened when I was in England. Things were dark for a while, and when I finally couldn't find the space to crawl out of it, I realized I needed help.
Which isn't a bad thing, I’ve come to realize. Normally, asking anybody for help with anything, especially concerning my own feelings, makes me want to run the opposite direction. But as soon as I hit rock bottom, it was the only path I thought could have helped, and to my surprise, it did.