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I'll See Ya, when I See Ya.

I'll See Ya, when I See Ya.

I can almost remember the first time I set foot on Wrightsville Beach. I was 17, still a dumb junior in high school who thought she knew everything and that no school on earth could be cooler than the College of Charleston. The beach was dead. It was March. No one was out, it was about 60 degrees and I was the only one at the edge of the water.

I looked back toward the beach access at all the houses. They were all so different, I wondered if college kids actually lived in them. We were on access 24. 

"One things for sure, if I come here I'm living on the beach the first chance I get." were the only words I had for my mom when she asked me about the college tour that afternoon. I was still confused and unsure of where UNCW fell on my list, but pretty sure it was somewhere at the top.

Seventeen months later I moved into Graham 405 with Meg, who, as you may have picked up by now, is my ride or die best friend until the end. And so unfolds the best two years of our lives. 

I wish I could recount all the memories--some bright, some crazy, some dark, some ridiculous: many remembered, quite a few forgotten in late blurry nights. We hijacked bikes to get home, ate 300 pizzas each, walked miles to parties, searched the whole city for Acai Bowls, dined off skateboards in our dorms, spilled Lucky Charms all over our ugly orange sheets, lived in a house right off the beach, failed a few tests, cried over friends and quite a few boys (lol jk we probably just laughed and yelled about them) and tanned...a lot. But regardless of the day, even if we had to drive in the back of a pickup truck in 45 degrees to get there, the serenity of Wrightsville beach could solve it all. 

5 years later I'm standing here on a dock at south end, again with my best friend. A whole new person. Gathering all the love I have for this place I once called home. Thinking of all the times, the challenges this place has given me. How it's shaped me. Who I am because of it and who I would fail to be without it. I want to thank you, for the times, the memories, the never ending summer days (jk the winter was oh so brutal). I'm sure I'll catch ya somewhere down the road. For now, I have quite a few big life plans to attend to on the other side of the country--but until then thanks wb. I'll see ya when I see ya.

With Love from The DYC, 

P

Call up the band that plays the funeral march : PRINT is officially dead.

Call up the band that plays the funeral march : PRINT is officially dead.

Dear Summer, IT's been more than Real.

Dear Summer, IT's been more than Real.