My Heart

My Heart

 My heart is spread around a lot. To my friends, my family, to all those I care for and love. But where my heart feels the most full is at a summer camp, in a gazebo, surrounded by so many of my loved ones. We only spend three days a year all together, and I couldn't name anyone I am closer to than those twenty-some teenagers. Trust is a beautiful thing when we are all so much of ourselves. There is no need to hide from one another, we are all the same. The same kind of weird to the outside world and the same kind of special inside of that gazebo, inside of that summer camp. I have never felt so loved and understood, so honest with myself. It is a feeling I seldom experience, because often I don't have the place to. 

Where else can you tell people that you love them after just three days?

Nowhere that I've found. Nowhere that I've meant it as much as I do when crying in their arms on the last night of camp. Nowhere that I've meant it as much as I do after reading the notes they write for me and each other. Nowhere that I've meant it as much as I do when I text them, months later to tell them I miss them.

And I miss them. Already.

-Ava