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Paradise.
Supposedly that's where I am now. Everyone says it, especially the tourists and retirees. But I never would've come here if it weren't for my parents. Of course my parents would be excited about the move. I know, it's because of Dad's job, but that just makes it worse because I really can't blame them. I feel bad moping around them when it's really not their fault.
Miserable.
That's how I feel. And who wouldn't? How many people actually have a good relationship at 14? How many of those relationships still have potential, lots of it, at 16? And how many of those relationships have one person who has to move away?
Florida.
It really is paradise. Just not this side of it. At least for me. This side of it is empty. It's empty of excitement and adventure and, most of all, love. Ok, you caught me. I'm just being dramatic. There's plenty of love and adventure and excitement here for me. I just don't care. It has little appeal.
Yesterday.
That's when I believed all that you just read.
Today.
Today's a different story. Today this side is paradise. All the tourists and retirees are right. Mom and Dad are glad to see my eyes smile. How many relationships start out well at 14, continue to show potential at 16, break apart due to a move, and reunite on this side of Florida?
One.
That is the answer. At least as far as I know. And that's all that matters. Ok, caught again. That's not ALL that matters.
The other side of Florida.
It's empty now. Everyone says it's paradise. I use to agree.
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