Sometimes.

Sometimes I forget where I am. I end up walking around campus in this stupor and forgetting that this is my life and this is part of my story.

Sometimes I forget what I'm studying. I keep pretending like History is some really long, interesting at times and sometimes not so much, story of people that I don't know. I forget that these are people. It sounds silly and trite, but that brings me back to something. I'm not quite sure what it is. It brings me back to the fact that these people that I'm studying were all once infants, and that history is a series of our parents and grandparents and great-grandparents.

Sometimes I forget that news stories are real.

Sometimes I forget that my parents used to be my age. When I see pictures of them being silly, I wonder what it would be like to know my parents in college.

Sometimes I forget where I was ten minutes ago. Not completely forget, but just enough to let my mind wander back and fathom that those moments are gone forever.

Sometimes I forget or rather, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to know that you're sleeping. It's a quandry, but I feel like I'm missing something amazing when I sleep.

Sometimes I forget that I will only ever be myself and no one else. I wonder what it would be like to be someone else for awhile, especially someone I don't get along with. I wonder what life looks like from their eyes. But I'm getting used to the idea of being here in my own body.

Sometimes it gets late and I feel deep and emotional, but I really just want to lie next to someone in a big room.