New Mexico, the unknown desert just south of my fruitful
desert, Utah. Salt Lake has been by birds nest for so many years, the mountains
have had an unspoken promise to keep me safe from the outside world. I left
those boundaries to find a new home somewhere else.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” my mom asked
as we were on my journey in my little Volkswagen Jetta. Was I really sure what
I was doing? I was already going to be in a new environment, did I really want
to jump into Greek life. These were empowering women with great past. Or were
they just like the girls you see on the TV who got caught doing god knows what.
My already swollen
heart is split into two. They told me I would just know, but at this point my
brain is just mush. Four days of Rush Week, for what? I spent my last four days
away from my mom just so I can say good-bye to her tomorrow. She reassured me
before I was dropped off that I would know what place that I would call home.
Oh how she was wrong, they were all wrong. I get out of the second house more
confused than when I walked in. My home was already Albuquerque, but the
present question is who would be my new family? Who would be the girls I would
call my sisters, or run to when I was having a bad day? Why it all I could
think about is running to the bathroom to check myself, because like always
Aunt Flow always had the best timing. The only dress I brought down from Utah
was a white dress that was classy yet still sassy at the same time, something
that represented my personality in my wardrobe. We lined up in alphabetical
order. The Rho Gamma, or our leader during Panhellenic Rush Week, yells over
the whisper of girls, “No sound all the way to the sub!” Complete silence, from
Greek row to the SUB. I picked the worse day to wear highs, but that was not
biggest concern that night.
No comments:
Post a Comment