This morning, I sat in my backyard, which is directly behind my old elementary school, for the sunrise. I watched lights flicker on in the hallways, half-asleep teachers with huge thermoses full of coffee, shuffling in and plopping themselves down in front of towering piles of coloring and rudementary math. I watched them rearraging the desks, which now seemed smaller than ever.
One big flaw of mine is that I’ve never been good with change. I live in the sugary-sweet moments of the past, and revert to them whenever the present isn’t as pleasent. Leaving the safe, and gentle realm of elementary school was almost impossible. By the time I had adjusted to middle school, there was only a quarter left of 8th grade. And a high-school mentality didn’t set in until I had already placed an order for my cap and gown.
It never helped that my elementary school sat directly behind my house either; a constant reminder of the happy childhood I always felt I had left behind too soon.

Lost in the past, I missed the sunrise.