Fresh out of high school, and I was ready- ready to do what no other graduate from my high school was going to do; ready to go where no one from my high school would be; ready to get out of the one place I’d lived for the last eighteen years. I was moving to Florida.
My plan was to the University of Central Florida in Orlando. I was interested in going into creative writing and this school had a really great program. The campus was the fifth biggest campus in the United States, one of the fastest growing universities in the nation, and all this was a mere two miles away from my Aunt Kelly. Perfect right? I thought so. Sure I barely knew my aunt and almost never talked to her, and sure I had never really managed my own finances, but those were just small technicalities of course. I was certain Florida would be the most perfect choice for me. I also already had two job interviews set up for me when I arrived. I wanted to work as much as possible over the summer so I could put away some money to pay for books and perhaps help out a little on tuition.
May 26th, 2009, two days after graduation, I was packed up and on a plane to Orlando. The reason I decided to move down there over the summer was so that I could gain residency as quickly as possible and then be able to pay in state tuition. It usually takes about nine months to gain residency so I was prepared to pay full price tuition for a semester or even a year. After that tuition would be no problem because it was only about four grand a year and then I wouldn’t have to take out any school loans.
As the plane was about to land the girl I was sitting next to me let out a big sigh.
“You live here?” she asked without so much as glancing over at me.
“Well, ya, I guess now I do. I’m moving here actually,” she nodded her head as if apologizing.
“You don’t like it here?” I pushed, a bit curious now.
“Eh,” she shrugged and started digging around in her purse, pulling out a box of cigs and a lighter. “My parents live here. I grew up here. I hate it here. It’s not a place to live, people just like to visit.”
“Oh,” I replied trying not to let her lack of enthusiasm dim my chipper. “Well I’m excited bout it.”
Then she looked at me for the first time and gave me a slight smirk.
“You’re young,” she replied, “You’ll learn.”
In retrospect I feel as if I should have taken this advice as the omen of doom it truly was.
My aunt was waiting for my mom and I at the front gates when we arrived.
“Welcome to Florida,” she smiled as we loaded our things into her car.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” I smiled.
“Me either,” my mom muttered a strong sense of reluctance lining her words.
“Soon enough you’ll be calling this home!” Aunt Kelly laughed and my mom sighed.
“How are you doing Kim?” Kelly asked my mom.
“Oh alright,” she spoke softly, “It’s just hard. I’m okay right now; I imagine I’ll be much worse when I go back to Illinois and Chloé is still here. You know it’s never too late for you to go to ICC, Chloé.”
I rolled my eyes and pretended like I didn’t hear her. There was no way I’d go to ICC. I knew my mom was unsure about this whole idea, and my dad hated the thought of me being twenty-two hours away from home, but I had to do this. I felt like I had to prove to myself that I could escape the ordinary, and I was convinced that if I stayed home and went to ICC I would be stuck in monotony and restricted to a life of normality. I don’t know why I was so afraid of something so ridiculous, but at the time being like everyone else was the most terrifying idea.
About a month after I started my new life down in Orlando I started to feel overwhelmed by responsibilities, especially when it came to money. Balancing two jobs was too much so I decided to drop my waitressing job to go on full time at the bookstore. Money slipped through my fingers like water. Five dollars here, ten bucks there, and before I knew it I had nothing to show for the forty hours of work I’d done that week. Every time I bought something I would justify the purchase by telling myself it was the last time I’d spend money on myself, but then something else always came up that I just had to have. I also felt like I had lost my motivation to do anything. When I had decided to move down to Florida I wanted to make a point to concentrate on my writing, but since moving down here I hadn’t done any writing. I was constantly distracted with going out with friends from work, and writing was the last thing on my mind.
In the beginning of July I went to UCF’s freshman orientation. I couldn’t believe how many people were in just one orientation. The ballroom was packed and it seemed like everyone knew everyone and their families were all there supporting them, and here I was in the middle of the crowd completely alone and completely lost. During orientation I felt overwhelmed and at one point I called my mom near tears telling her I needed to come home and go to ICC because I just couldn’t deal with college on my own
“Sweetheart, you know we’ll always want you home, but maybe you should think this over,” she said to me as I sat outside of the Student Union while all the incoming freshman were inside lunching with their families.
“I don’t know Mom, I just don’t know. It’s just so hard. I don’t like doing this all on my own. And I don’t like living with Aunt Kelly- it’s just awkward,” I could hear my words tremble. I was so close to breaking down.
“I know, living in someone else’s home is always an adjustment. I think you just need to do some soul searching and figure out what it is you really want to do,” my mom advised. We talked about it for a little while longer before I hung up and headed back to the join the rest of the prospective freshman class.
For weeks I battled the idea of coming home or not. I avoided talking to Kelly about the situation because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Living with her was hard because it didn’t feel like I belonged there. She had her own life and in ways it felt like she was trying to impose her life on mine. At times it seemed she was trying to be a replacement mom for me while I was down there; that made living with her uncomfortable and confusing.
The idea of coming home was appealing and repelling all at the same time. If I came home it was as if I’d be admitting defeat. I never wanted to attend a community college, I never wanted to do the ordinary and I definitely didn’t want to do what I knew over half of the graduation class of Metamora High was planning on doing. I also knew that I really needed to make some serious changes I wasn’t ready for in my life if I wanted to stay in Florida. I needed to grow up, and I needed to grow up fast if Florida was my choice.
In the end of July my best friend Delayna came down to visit me. It was wonderful seeing someone who really knew me, and having her there made me feel more at home, and more like Chloé again.
“Do you like it here?” she asked one day while we were lying out by the pool.
“Yeah,” I paused thinking my response over. “Well, actually, no. I really don’t. I feel like I can’t take anything seriously here in Orlando.”
“Ya, I think I would have the same problem,” she agreed.
“Really? It’s just everyone I meet here has no motivations to do anything, ya know? It’s weird and kind of contagious.”
“Well ya, why would you have any motivations if the beach is a half hour away, there are dance clubs everywhere, and theme parks take up three fourths of the whole city,” she laughed.
“Exactly,” I sighed, a wave of relief washing over me knowing that she understood. “It’s just like I’m at a stand still here. I don’t see myself going anywhere being down here. Not only can I not take it seriously, but I’m awful with money, and I’m tired of living with my aunt, and the school is just too big, and I don’t have any motivation to do anything down here! I can’t take this. I want to take Florida seriously, but I can’t. I just want to go home. Orlando is a vacation spot- not a place where people actually live. So why am I trying to live here?”
Del shrugged.
“You tell me,” she replied.
I now knew exactly what the girl on the plane had meant. That’s when it hit me- I was going home. It hit me like a semi going seventy miles per hour, an epiphany and a revelation.
The next day I called my mom to tell her I was coming home. The day I made that decision was a Monday, and by Wednesday morning at four A.M. Del and I had piled all my belongings into my little Dodge neon and started the long trek home. My aunt was sad to see me go but she said that she understood. She had moved several times in her life and said that she probably wouldn’t have even lasted a week if she had done the same thing I had. My parents were more than supportive of my decision. The conversation between Del and I by the pool made me realize that I really didn’t want to be in Florida. I was trying to make it work when really it wasn’t my dream, and it really wasn’t what I had wanted to do. I had made the decision to move to Florida on a whim when I realized my dream school in Chicago, Illinois was too expensive.
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