Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious athletes, and a girl that yearns for a boy that she can't have.
Sage Williams is the girl that nobody had noticed in high school. She was the youngest out of her siblings. S...
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Sage Williams
I was a moth amongst a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
I stared at the ground way too long sometimes. It wasn't because I liked to avoid contact with people– it was because I liked checking out the bugs that were underneath me. And then after I found an interesting leaf because even the bugs didn't want to come out and say hi to me, I would google that leaf. I would read about it, and then I would sit and write about that leaf.
I had lived in the same town my entire life.
The same town that had been responsible for my parent's love story, my aunt's and uncle's love stories, and what one day I hoped would be my own. But what exactly is a love story?
Is a love story the way that my parents still go on ice cream dates every week? Is a love story the way that my aunt still can't understand my uncle as he curses her out in French? Or is a love story the way that I had felt whenever I watched a new butterfly hatch out of its cocoon?
The truth is, anything can be a love story.
It's the thought behind it. The people involved and more importantly– the feeling you get. You know the feeling.
Like how we are systematically programmed to feel a sort of way after we scrunch our toes in the sand or the way we try to warm our hands up when we are cold– That kind of feeling. The feeling that makes you act because you are so overcome with a feeling.
And sometimes we act without feeling. Like how I accidentally pushed my brother into a brick wall when we were seven. I cracked his head open and now he has a permanent scar on his right eyebrow. He still refuses to forgive me for that even though mom and dad took away my binocular privileges for a whole summer.
"Sage!" My eyes moved off of the pages that were in front of me as I heard my mother's voice. "Sage! Come on!" I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to feel more than I already was.
I was always an overachiever in school and it was my biggest downfall. In high school, I was a part of a gifted program, a program for smart students who go above and beyond in schooling. This would be my biggest downfall because I am nothing but a burnout.
In my last two years of high school, I was a burnout. I was depressed. I would stay up all night in my treehouse and just think. I would think about the endless galaxies that are out in the world. I would think about the fact that I wasn't experiencing life like the other kids my age were. I would think that I was not normal compared to everyone my age.
I mean, my cousin Leighton had severe allergies so he couldn't play the holy bible around here—or what we call football. However, once he discovered that his allergies only exist outside, he picked up something indoor. Basketball.
Don't get me wrong. I had a couple of good summers with Leighton where we would just sit– inside and in the air conditioning of course– and talk about all of the flowers we would see at the park that day.
