The eight year anniversary of my life in Buffalo passed a few days ago. Each year (okay, more like every couple of days) I think about the “What ifs?” that could have altered the present outcome of my life. I question what if I stayed back home, where would I be now? I wonder, when am I going to stop counting anniversaries, and finally be somewhere where I am not so miserable? I get anxiety thinking about the possibility of me being here forever. These thoughts alone make up the majority of the driving force behind me maintaining a Dean’s List grade point average. My fears cloud over me like a knowing trap, teasing me with the constant reminder of my unhappiness. I honestly wish time traveling existed. Childish thinking, I know, but these are things I dream of just so that I can experience some escaping from my reality. Memories of my past life play in mind like a home movie, yet instead of reminiscing about the “good ol’ times,” I anger over how I transitioned from such a comforting upbringing, to the struggles and ugliness that have burdened me since 2007.