Perfection

I just came home from work. Walking from the car to the front door, I stopped for a minute to look up at the stars. You can't see them where I'm going. But then again the city lights makes a pretty good replacement, right? I could smell the grass, hear some people laughing in a backyard a few houses over. Nostalgia is a funny thing. Like when I finished high school; I despised the place for five years, but still found myself overflowing with tears the day it was finally over. The way I've hated being here; trading free food and television for nagging and house chores. But standing outside my house for those few moments that would not last, suburbia seemed simple and perfect. And just like my last day of high school, for some reason I sit here bawling my eyes out.