I swear to God I will never forget. I could write down page after page of the inside jokes, the memories and the stories from this week, but I prefer to keep them securely in my heart, just in my head and in the messy handwriting in my moleskine. I’ve been away to a youth camp where I always seem to spend the best weeks of my life, and I do not want to be here. I do not want to be home. I want to still be there, not thinking about the fact that the disadvantage of getting to know people from all over the world is that you can consider yourself lucky if you get to meet them once a year. And now I’m stuck in this room, in this house, in this city and in my school with these people. If I could, I would relive the weeks I spend at this camp over and over again for the rest of my life. I just want to go back.

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