"I dodge all those potholes!" He exclaimed like it was something he should be proud of.

"You grew up here, if you don't know how to dodge potholes, you're an idiot." I responded with. I don't know why I feel the need to be so mean to him. His pouty face is cute though.

"I was distracted by you mooing at all the cows." I watched the silhouette of his chin as he talked. I loved to watch him talk.

"I have to moo at the cows."

"Why?" He giggled.

I whispered back to him that the cows were my friends like it was a big secret.

"Weirdo." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything after that, I just got out of the car. I waved at him when I got to my front door and stood there, watching him back out of the driveway. It always makes me nervous when he does that. These roads are dangerous, not just because of the millions of potholes, but because there are deer and possums out at this time of night, especially in July. A couple of times, when I was coming home from work real late, some Amish teens would be out on the buggy without the light on. The real danger seekers of the world.

I consider that an embarrassing story. I don't like telling people I live close to Amish country, I sound better when I say I'm from the city. There aren't as many mosquitoes in the city. A major bonus.

I walked inside quietly tiptoeing. My parents should be fast asleep, but my mom is a "light sleeper". I think she has insomnia. I can hear the TV on in their room. My mom is watching Friends on the local channel, like she always does at midnight. I stumble on my way to brush my teeth and take out my contacts. I'm still not used to the small, sharp corners. I jump into bed.

He texted me that he's home already. He always speeds. I can't be mad at him for it though, because I do too. Everybody does, there's no shoulder on any of the roads so there's never any cops out. Why wouldn't you go 50 in a 35?

Pennsylvania drivers have a great reputation.

We were only pulled over once. It was when he went 90 in the 35, right passed the police station. I was also sitting on the door, hanging out of the car window. The fastest he'll go now is 60. Which is probably a good idea because the car almost tipped over a couple times at 90.

Window hanging is the only thing I enjoy about being a passenger. It's the only rush you can get in a small town that's not completely illegal.

Whenever I don't drive I get a tummy ache, they're unbearable when I'm in the backseat. My friends usually yell at me for not wearing a seat belt, but the pressure makes me feel really sick. I can't believe they're only afraid of being pulled over for a seat belt. I must be the only one afraid of a DUI. I think I'm the only one for a lot of things. If I'm not the only one, I'm of a very select few.

I'm of the select few who didn't want to go to state school, 30 minutes away. I'm the only one with a single mom. I'm the only one who's visited a prison before. I'm of the select few who's visited a rehab facility before. I'm the only one who's visited one for different people.

Small towns are nice. Or at least when you exclude the heroin addicts. My class has the highest amount of dropouts in my high school's recent history. Small towns are nice 'cause you can get to the same place whether you're shooting up or have a high school diploma.

I don't know a single person in this town that has never touched a hard drug before, not even me. Call me hypocritical, I know. There just isn't much else to do when everything closes at 10 p.m. Gotta fill up all those hours just chilling at your friends house. Oddly enough, those are the people I trust to go 90 in the 35. The people my mom trusts to hang out with me in the middle of the night. The people I like to watch talk.

I checked the time. He must have gone 90, if not close. There's no other way he could've gotten all the way to the other side of town that quickly.

What a controversy him and I are. An east side man and a west side girl.

That's the really bold dividing line in the people here. It separates the people who prefer movies or tv shows, indie/emo music or rap music, the kids who work shitty jobs or the kids who have never worked at all. If you drive from the east side to the west side - you'll really see it.

I try to focus on the lake when I make that drive. The lake sits right in the middle of town, it's what connects us. Everyone has happy memories from there. Mine, in particular is kayaking on mother's day. My mom and I go every year. It's the starting point of the warm weather, so we go kayaking at least once a month together from May until September. We always say that we're going to try paddle boarding, but we never do.

The lake is also where most people learn to drive. It's narrow, crowded and bumpy, but not too bumpy. I could drive there with my eyes closed.

We aren't supposed to swim there. It's a stupid rule, but everyone does it at night anyway. After our last day of senior year, me and my friends all went night swimming there. It was freezing. I do not advise swimming in that water in May.

It's much better for a July night.

It's a good story though. And it was a million times better than celebrating our last day by going to the local arcade/bowling alley/karaoke bar.

I hate that place. The town only made it so that the mall wouldn't close down. Now there's a Whole Foods next to it too, but people still go to King of Prussia.

It must be a real punch in the face to our mall, that people would still rather drive 40 minutes to K.O.P. The mall was remodeled, so now it's the second largest in the country. Also, there's a Shake Shack in the mall and right outside it. Both of them are always packed.

There isn't even good food anywhere near our mall. I know I just said the Whole Foods, but not everyone has $20 to spend on a bagel after a shopping trip.

Also the drive to K.O.P is so serene, romantic possibly, if you're on your way for Shake Shack and a movie. I promise that's a good date. I think if you can make it a forty minute car ride without feeling awkward, you're with someone special.

The Philadelphia area is really special. We have lots of things that are just ours, like wawa's, tastykakes and Herr's. No one will ever convince me that there is something better than Herr's popcorn. If you think Smartpop is good bagged popcorn, you're wrong.

The people who call Pennsylvania a flyover state are insane.

It's funny to me.

There are Philly specific things, we stand out as a city. It's a special city, but we don't have that special of people. They all seem the same. They blend together.

Maybe that's why I wanted to leave. I was bored with all the same personalities. Maybe I was nervous that I was too different. Maybe I was craving a place where I could be different because everyone was different.

I'm still not sure if I found it.

Maybe I'm just going through another one of my phases. Another phase of people and places. Maybe I left someone I should have stayed with.

I never imagined myself feeling homesick.

I miss the smell of all those freshly cut fields (yes fields, for the cows), I miss talking with the cows, I miss long back road drives where I could go as fast as I wanted and I miss wawa.

Oh my god. I miss wawa.

I miss car rides. I miss going 50 in the 35. I miss him, going 60 in the 35. What a risk taker, huh?

People back home called me the risk taker for leaving. They would ask me if I was scared, I would always lie and say that I wasn't. Truth is I was horrified, I'm still horrified. I feel more scared now than I did before I left.

Did I make the right decision? Should I have left when I did, the way I did? Maybe I miss the people, or just one person.

One person and my parents. Of course I miss my parents.

I think I took my small town for granted. It didn't have any charm to it, but it was my home. I even took that night for granted, my last night there. I spent it with someone who loved me so much, someone I always said "I love you too" back.

I'm still not sure if I meant it.

We still said goodbye like it was just another date. Like we'd see each other tomorrow, but odds are we may never see each other again.

Maybe I used him without intending to. Maybe I'm upset with him for choosing to stay in this little town, even though he doesn't want to, nor does he have to.

Then again I thought I didn't want to, but looking back I don't think I would've minded living in Philadelphia. I feel guilty for how happy I was leaving.

Leaving home, I was beaming. That makes me a shitty person. Now I'm that person who didn't realize all the things I had until they were gone.

I didn't appreciate the barren mall, arcade/bowling alley/karaoke place's crappy food and rigged claw machines, the scenic drive from the east to the west or Wawa's heavenly coffee until I couldn't have them anymore.

Am I really so selfish?

People say I deserve this. I thought I did too, but why do I feel so guilty?

Maybe this is all part of the experience. Missing home so much, definitely. Feeling guilty about neglecting my home, not so sure.

I guess I finally get it, "there's no place like home"

There's no other place where I can walk in the door and bump into the counter, distracted by the smell of dinner. I learned so quickly how much I took my home for granted.

I know a homesickness I never thought I'd feel.