Ever since I was a sophomore in high school, I always dreamed of one day being able to call myself a student of Appalachian State University, located in Boone, North Carolina. Perhaps it was the scenery I enjoyed the most. The mountains are like walls that seem to make all of the troubles of the outside world dissipate. The overall personalities of the North Carolina natives seemed almost esoteric. Or maybe it was the simple fact that it was different from home-different from a place that I used to call my haven. The place where I sought counsel was quickly transformed into a place where lush greenery thrived, and the reflection of an "earlier time," was depicted by the street corners. This was a place that I dwelled upon, and wanted nothing more than to reside there forever. The reality of the long road ahead was a clear interpretation of what was yet to come, although I did not completely figure this out until my senior year.
             I have lived in Kingsport for the majority of my life, so I have grown up in the mountains of East Tennessee. I did not know however, that I would have to stay here a little longer-not by choice at least. As senior year approached rapidly, the antagonizing ordeal of selecting a college to further my education was a challenging task to say the least. I applied to three schools in complete hesitation because I knew where I wanted to be, and needed to be. As days passed, I checked the mail as usual, having slight reservations because I did not know what to expect. Each day that passed served as an enzyme to allow me to become more patient with myself, and of course with Appalachian State.
             The day finally arrived on a lukewarm day in March. As track practice ended, the thought of doing anything besides rest was the last thing on my mind. However, the eggshell colored envelope was waiting for me in the rain soaked mailbox. The letter seemed to open seamlessly between my tired h
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