of college and umbrellas and other things

i’ve got a really good view from my small dorm room window.

i always knew it was good, but i’ve never really appreciated it until tonight, because the clouds are so thick i can’t see anything past provo,

and normally i can see all the way to the mountain my house sits on.

tonight i can’t see suncrest.

but i can imagine exactly where my mom is knitting and where my dad is journaling and how HGTV is playing just to drown out the silence, but no one's actually watching it.

yesterday they hosted an ‘empty nesters party’ at our house with all their old people friends, and last week my mom posted a collage of all her kids on instagram. she spelled empty nesters wrong in her caption so i had to call her and teach her how to fix it. 

today she texted me, and somehow, even though i can’t see her, she’s still taking care of me.

i wasn't going to, but i took the umbrella like she told me to, and it started pouring the minute i walked outside.

i’m sitting on my bed wearing the same t-shirt i always wear, with a big purple W in the middle. my roommates always stare at it like it’s poison, just like they do with anything that’s not blue or Y. 

but i don’t want to take it off. because 900 miles from my little home in provo is the green eyed girl i grew up with. she’s making new memories with new people in a new place i’ve never been. but i hear Washington’s green, and i hear it rains a lot. 

tonight it’s raining in provo. the grass is a brighter shade of green and even though my socks are soaked, i’ve been smiling all day. because today felt a little bit like Washington. 

it felt like Washington, and it had me thinking about the green eyed girl i still talk to. 

we still talk and i still miss her and nothing’s really changed, 

except that everything is different.

when we talk, we talk about her life and my life and his life, and how it’s no longer our life and that’s a little bit sad. we talk about how we miss our moms, and boys with good socks and good shoes.

it’s turned into a lot more of catching up than just enjoying each other’s company and it’s sad, but i guess that’s just what happens when you grow up.

i've got a good view from my dorm room window. 

i can't see suncrest, but i can see the rain.

it feels like Washington and growing up and poetry and college,

and not missing high school.

and i’ve been waiting a long time for that.