Why Do I Go Back To The One Place I Hate The Most?

A school I will never call home despite the numerous times I go back. Every time I enter that place, my high school of five years not in particular order, hatred fills me, but I have learned to control it for I have yet to let it go. Every time I leave that place, and will visit my friends again, I am reminded of the freedom I now have that I had to wait impatiently while I was a student at that school. Why should a school be called home? This high school of mine was slightly different. I would have to travel to a different city for school therefore; I would sleep in a dormitory. I have learned to see my friends as family and even today, they are family to me. Just because I sleep in a dormitory (that’s attached to the school) it did not mean I had to see it as a home because for as long as I have been there, it never felt like a second home (when it should have). Although I have made lots of awesome and happy memories, still I felt like a prisoner trapped within the school ground under heavy supervisions weighing on my shoulders. For that, there were times I would escape and run away for a while to breath, and it felt good. So, I don’t return to that place because I missed it or because it’s where I grew up those past years or because of my friends. I go back to that sad place to rub it in because I’m no longer a student there, I have power. I have freedom. I guess, after all those years of little suffocation, hard work, and rebellion, it was about freedom and power. Now that I got them both, I don’t take it for granted. I’m just happier then I had ever been in years.