I looked out the window at the streets covered in string lights for Christmas and a blanket of snow on the ground. The road was recently scraped, but my driver was still slowly making his way through the streets I once called home. Memories came flooding back: sledding through the snow, drinking hot chocolate, watching the Christmas shows in the theater, and fireworks over Aspen Mountain. I used to love this town dearly; I was so proud of it and said I would never leave. But that was before I was forced to grow up and see the real world for what it is. It was easiest to leave and not look back.

“I am excited to see you.” I purposefully avoid calling this place home. But I haven’t seen my mom in months and even though we spoke on the phone regularly, I missed her and Dad greatly. “And the others. I’m surprised you’re up this early.” Mom always liked to sleep in on account of her needing ‘beauty rest.’

“Well, you are only in town for so long! I have to soak up every minute. How was the plane ride? Is your little friend with you?”

I reminisced on my time with Finn. Watching Harry Potter, drinking a little too much, laughing loudly at strangers. It definitely wasn’t the worst plane ride I’ve had, and the memory brought a slight twitch of my lips. Watching him see how many peanuts he could catch in his mouth and him telling me conspiracy theories about aliens was a little more than I expected, but fine, nevertheless.

“Plane ride was pretty good. And he had to work.” Not necessarily a lie. I’m sure my imaginary boyfriend worked all the time. How else would he support his addiction to buying me things and donating money to animal shelters?

“Oh. Well, I wish you would’ve told me, I made arrangements just for him.”

Oh gosh. Arrangements probably meant mom was fully prepared to lock us in a dark room lit by candles as Marvin Gaye played over the speakers.

“Sorry, Mom. I’ll try to bring him another time.” I felt ridiculous saying it out loud because we both knew there wouldn’t be another time.

“Okay, well I at least expect some pictures or something. Did you get plenty of rest?” Pictures I could do. Shout out to Google and Photoshop.

“Not really, I just couldn’t relax.” I danced around what she knew were my nerves keeping me from sleeping.

“She isn’t here yet. They won’t be coming till tonight. I thought you would need a break before you saw her.” Of course, she knew my worries. That was the hardest thing about leaving: my selfless, kind-hearted, caring mother always looked out for me, even when I broke her heart by leaving them all in the dust.