Back to Sioux Falls: back to streets and building that hold way too many memories. As I'm pulling off the interstate and turning on to the 26th street exit, my mind flashes back to the last time I came back to this place, my home, or what used to be my home. That's the funny thing about life, you grow up in small town South Dakota never expecting to leave the friendly, cozy atmosphere and then suddenly you're coming back for the first time in five years. Taking a left on 26th street, the first thing I see is the Frying Pan we used to go to at three in the morning to talk and laugh for hours until the sun came up. Most of the faces that fill this memory are still somewhere in Sioux Falls, living their lives. I feel as if time has stopped since I left. It's hard to imagine the place I used to call home changing and continuing without me in it. As I continue to drive down the familiar street, I pa** Camille's, the little café where we went on our first date. That was the start of a roller coaster ride that lasted four and half years. I feel a twinge in my heart and my face distorts a little as I think about all of the happy times, mistakes, and regrets that have been made since we sat at that restaurant for the first time. Taking a left onto 41st street, I pa** O'Gorman High School, where, in two days time, I will go back to for my ten-year high school reunion. As I pa** the school, I turn on the windshield wipers for the rain that has started to come down; a perfect representation of the way I feel right now. Turning on to Sertoma Avenue, I pa** the path to the bike trails where I used to run late at night when I was feeling trapped. The green gra** with wild flowers and weeds growing in it always made me feel free and less suffocated. I wouldn't listen to music while I ran; all I needed to calm me down was the sound of the Big Sioux River flowing next to me. I take a quick right on to Strabane and pa** the first house on the left; my best friend Elizabeth's house. I find myself wondering if her parents still live there and how they're doing. I used to ride my bike to that house several times a week at any given time. Sometimes I would show up at two in the morning crying because of something he did, or show up with an unhealthy amount of banana Laffy Taffy's and all of the Harry Potter movies just because I was bored and couldn't sleep. When I finally come to the street I grew up on, Camden Avenue, I take a deep breath and pull into the driveway behind my old garage stall. My mother's roses are in full bloom and Daryl's gra** is perfectly groomed as usual, the house is still a bland beige with white trim and I can hear my parent's dogs barking upon hearing my arrival. After taking a moment to calm myself down, I unbuckle the seatbelt to my black Honda Civic and step out of my car and start toward the house that helped mold me into who I am today.