Come on, Dad. It’s time to let me start thinking about considering moving away from this sweat bath of a city. I’m a fourteen year old boy applying to boarding school, and you won’t let me open my mouth about it. Should I not be counting my chickens before they hatch? Well then I guess it’s goodbye to Andover and Eggseter for…1 month, 21 days, 5 hours and 30 minutes. March 10th couldn’t possibly seem further away.
It’s like suddenly, the tables have turned. A week ago, it was every dinner discussion. “Ben, how are those essays coming?” but as soon as they’re in, it’s all over? And Mom, I hate to bring you into this, but I know you don’t want me to leave. It was all fighting until I decided I wanted to apply to some boarding schools, and then suddenly I’m a little prince again? Although I’m not complaining. Thanks for the ice cream you just handed me, by the way.
At least my friends are supportive…wait a minute. I see what this is. You guys want me to leave. There’s no other explanation. How could you do this to me? I’m just a boy trying to make it in this hellhole of a world. I don’t know what I want, to be honest. I want you to want me to stay and I want you to be supportive of me if I leave. When there’s a decision like this I start living in the goddamn future. Except for the fact that I’ve already packed all my shirts. That was a good idea. At least now, if I get in, I’ll have planned ahead. And if I don’t, well, they needed to be folded anyway, my shirts-drawer was a mess.
The point is, I’m not going to write a song, but if you love me, let me go. And if you don’t love me, then you can kiss my beautiful ass goodbye, you won’t be seeing any more of this kid. Unless I don’t get in. Then this’ll all be awkward, and I’ll end up deleting this off of my blog. Sort of like when you say goodbye on a FaceTime call, but nobody hangs up, so you’re sorta stuck there, staring at someone’s off-guard face, thinking “dude, why are your eyes so wide right now. Like, come on man. It looks like someone took some fishing line and tied your eyelids to the ceiling. Do I need to shine a light in your face for them to close just a little bit?” Sorry, buddy, you know who you are.