I have this tendency to romanticize the past, but when I reflect on it with journal entries, I feel a sense of embarrassment. I think I miss the people more than any other aspect. I miss spending my nights in a jeep with Tim, or at a Denny's with Omega. Of those two people, one is dead and the other resides in Hawaii. . And I'm stuck with the realization that those times will never come back and I'm going to college in Kansas. I love Brian, but sometimes I wonder if I'm happy - if he's happy; if I'd be happier elsewhere, or if I'll always find mild misery with my surroundings. If that's the case, what do I do to rectify this sometimes prominent funk I find myself in?