Small Town Hero

I walked Charlie, the dog, through the streets of Hanover the other day. I smelled downtown where all those trucks and motorcycles ride by, saw the crazies (even an old Ratface's Christmas Special star) sitting on the benches, and watched the trashy people walk in and out of the Texas Hot Weiner for lunch. And it all felt absolutely wonderful. It made me realize how lucky I was to grow up in this small town. A place that is cultural because of it's proximity to Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York City. A place that I may have been the weird colored hair/dress in thrift store clothing girl at school, but still fit in because all of us were Hanoverians, all of us were raised well, everyone pretty much accepted everyone else. A place that, despite my semi-hatred, has an accent, and therefore a character. A place that has history behind it. It's the brick sidewalks, the churches, the teenage mothers, the crabshacks, and the greasyspoons that make up this small town. It's hard to explain what life is like here to people out west. They can't imagine what an amazing childhood somebody can have at a place like this. But i've grown up wellrounded, openminded, and an extremely compassionate person.
Before i left, Chad said, "you know it's going to be the exact same when you go home. Nothing's going to have changed." I couldn't be happier that he was absolutely right.