I don’t even know why I’m typing this out really. It’s like 2 AM and I can hear the crickets outside and the air conditioner is making that weird humming noise it always does. My phone screen is really bright and I probably shouldn’t be looking at it because I have to get up for chores early tomorrow, cows don’t wait for you to feel better about your life choices, ha ha. But I can’t sleep. Because of this thing. This really stupid thing. It started a few weeks ago, I guess. Me and my friends, Jess and Mikey and sometimes even Tyler if he’s not off doing something boring with his dad, we hang out at the old diner in town. It’s like, the only place to go. And we were just talking, like always. About what we’re gonna do when we get outta here. Everyone’s got these big plans to leave and go to college and like, become veterinarians or something. And I’m like, cool. That’s cool. And I really do think it’s cool. Jess wants to be a teacher and Mikey wants to fix up old cars, like his grandpa. And Tyler, well, Tyler’s just gonna take over his dad’s farm, which is actually kinda sad because you can tell he doesn’t really want to. But he won’t say anything. And then Jess looked at me, all serious, like she does sometimes. She’s kinda like my mom, always looking at me like she knows what I’m thinking even when I don’t. And she was like, “So, what about you, Sarah? What’s your big plan?” And I just kinda… froze. My throat felt all tight, like when you swallow too fast and it gets stuck. I took a sip of my root beer even though it was all flat and warm by then. Because here’s the thing. My big plan. It’s not like theirs. They all talk about going to college, sure, but then they always add, “but I don’t want to work TOO hard, you know?” And “I want to have a good life, not just a job.” And “I wanna have time for a family.” And I get it, I really do. My mom works really hard at the general store and she’s always tired. My dad, before he… well. He worked hard too. And they didn’t have a lot of time for us. So I get it. I really do. But when Jess asked me, I wanted to say it. I wanted to say, “I want to be a senior architect at a boutique firm in a big city.” That’s what I want. I looked it up. I’ve been looking it up for like, ever. I draw buildings in my notebooks when I should be doing homework. I look at pictures of skyscrapers and these really fancy houses that look like they’re made of glass and steel. I want to design those. I want to be in charge of making them happen. I want to be important. I want to be a BIG DEAL. And I know what that means. It means working really long hours. It means probably not having a family for a long time. It means being really really good at what I do, better than everyone else. And I’m okay with that. I actually… I want that. I want to be the one everyone looks to. I want to be the one who knows everything and can make things happen. I want to be the boss. But I couldn’t say it. I just looked at Jess, and then at Mikey who was making a weird face with a straw, and I just… lied. I said, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to community college for a bit, see what happens. Take some art classes.” And then I laughed, like it was a joke. Like I was just being silly. And they all nodded and went back to talking about how they want to live in a house with a big yard and get a dog. And I just sat there, stirring my flat root beer, feeling like my stomach was full of rocks. It’s stupid. It’s just stupid words. But it felt so… real. Like I was betraying myself. Like I was betraying them too, somehow, by not being like them. They probably think I’m just gonna stay here forever, or like, marry a farmer or something. And I just let them think it. Because I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed that I want something different. Something that sounds like… too much work to them. Something that sounds like not having a life. But it IS my life. It’s what I think about all the time. It’s what makes me feel like I’m not just stuck here forever. And now every time they talk about their plans, and their future, and how they just want to be happy and chill, I just nod along. And inside, I’m screaming. I’m screaming because I want to be more than just chill. I want to be… I don’t know. Important. And they wouldn’t get it. They just wouldn’t. They’d think I was crazy. Or that I was selling out or something. And I just… can’t. So I keep my mouth shut. And I just feel like a faker. A big fat liar. And my stomach still hurts. Ugh.