When I was young, once a week I would run away to New York. I would pack my suitcase with my most prized possessions, consisting of my stuffed dog, Law, the novel "Anne of Green Gables," and a handful of coins. I would run out of my house calling out to my parents that I would probably never be back.
Usually, within half an hour I would stroll back in, complaining that I had missed my plane or that New York was too cold and I would go another day.
I'm still uncertain of why I would consistently time and again run off to an enormous city that I had neither visited nor knew anything about.
Somehow New York City had a certain air of adventure and allure to my 7-year-old self and I was entirely convinced that it was my destiny.
However, when I look back on these dreams of my young self it all makes sense. I want to see and experience everything I can.
I am on the brink, at 17-years-old, of making some completely life-altering decisions.
My future is wide open and my college choices range from California to the other side of the country in Boston. I don't have any idea where I am going to end up but I do know that I want to see as much as I can.
I will probably pack a little differently for my future adventures but the goal always will stay the same. I just want to see all the things that I read about in magazines. I want to see the harsh conditions in third world countries. I want to experience the cultures of small tribes in Africa. But above all, I want to feel like I made a difference in somebody's life wherever I end up.
So, I will shoulder my backpack, it will be a little bit heavier this time, and run away to wherever I want to go. Hopefully these adventures will take me farther than my backyard.
This article is the opinion of Cassie Sheridan. Sheridan is a senior at Soldotna High School.
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