Hometown Ghost

Spending the break here in Saginaw has been, to say the least, eye opening. With one semester finally under my belt (whoop!) I can say that I have noticeably changed. My sense of who I am and who I want to be has grown immensely and my friends from high school have done the same.

I feel like a ghost in this town. Going to my high school's choir concert, football games, etc. the younger Bos kids run and hug me as if I have been gone for eternity. It is all smiles and reuniting. However with majority of people from my graduating class the sentiments are much different. Making plans to be only broken, and quickly to be informed the plans continued, simply without me. Watching people I held dear to my heart, and continue to do so, become people they swore they never would. Experiencing the same old games girls played in high school. I have grown so much this semester. My grudges that were firmly in tact senior year dissolved quickly upon moving out and honestly I was excited to hear all about everyone's new life and where they were spending their time, what they are passionate about, who they have become. But I am a ghost.

I am acknowledged the same way I was my senior year, and in some cases not at all. I drive through town and see my friends together laughing, catching up, enjoying each other's company once more but I was not invited. Whether you want to admit it or not it would hurt anyone. Honestly though that's not what hurts the most. The worst thing is watching people I once was so close with and continue to care about fall away from everything they stood for.

Drinking, sex, and drugs are all common components of our society lately, but to watch my friends fall away from their faith and into these empty, temporary solutions to fills their voids kills me. But even their actions aren't the worst part. The absolute worst part of this situation is having to watch silently. I feel as if I am watching a horror film where the girl is walking into the dark basement where the killer is awaiting her curiosity to get the best of her. I'm screaming at the television NO! DON'T GO IN THERE! but my cries go unheard.

Being treated as if I don't matter when I'm only wanting to talk to them, not even necessarily about their choices just to talk to them breaks my heart. It did in sixth grade, it did senior year, and I think it might just hurt worse now.

My expectations for home were much different. I expected growth to be able to talk to each other. I guess that is just too much to expect. I apologize for this dramatic sad story, but I just can't get it off my mind. College is about growing, and sometimes growing is painful. This is the real world and I'm just going to have to get used to it. I will continue to pray for each one of them and just hope the Lord will bring them out of destruction before it is too late.

Picking myself up, dusting myself off, and continuing on. You may think it's stupid but I am still going to care about them. It's something Jesus calls us to do. I just wish they would allow me to show it.