Bennington is like this secret imaginary place that a bunch of art and literature students all believe in and it doesn’t really exist or make sense to anyone except us. I keep trying to convince myself that I made the right decision by taking the term off, and when I process this situation logically, I know that I did. But god, I miss the trees and the mountains and walking home after dinner during twilight and watching movies hungover on Sunday afternoons and sneaking up on Zoe and Jeremy in the painting studio and Ezra playing the guitar and cigarette breaks with Jared and making mac and cheese while pulling all-nighters and brunch at the Blue Benn and endless stars and skinny dipping in Lake Paran and — everything about that fantastic world that became my home.