It was a continuous trend of a 5:45 a.m. alarm, followed by a 5:46, 5:47, 5:48, and multiple more in the same order.

A continuous cycle of the time reaching 6:00 a.m. and my mom coming into my room to let me know I’ve slept through approximately fifteen alarms.

While in the shower each morning, I’d create a bubble bath and immerse myself in upbeat music, thoughts of how exhausted I was, and the propelling feeling to get out of the shower and head straight back to my bed—that I would, with all my power, never let myself do.

Throughout high school, this morning routine never seemed to break, as I always made sure to gain that extra fifteen minutes of sleep and relaxing bath—to prepare myself for the overwhelming day of studies.

I missed these baths.

After stepping off the twelve and a half hour bus ride into Maine last weekend, that happened to delay for another hour, I quickly realized how remarkably far I was from home, but most importantly: how much I missed Portland, ME.

I continued to gather my luggage and two tightly packed bags, clearly overpacked as I was only staying for the remainder of the night and the following day. I was finally home, and I really, really missed Portland, so being my classic self, off to the mall I went—where I used to compensate my weekend sleep schedule and wake up for shopping most Sundays.

It felt amazing to see my eyebrow ladies who are the only ones I trust with my face, my favorite Sephora employees who have seen my complexion from the ground up, the new F21 men's section which was newly added before I left for college—and reminisce on all the memories I’ve had in this mall from as young as I could remember.

I missed this mall.

Stepping outside into the cold Maine air, back into my favorite car, the smell of leather and tiki-hut air freshener made it truly sink in that I was back home. The feelings began to make way. Soon thereafter, I was on the awfully windy roads that I would always find myself becoming lost in.

The windy roads I would take to work nearly every day, on the amazing drives home from school, or on night drives with my friends. I found myself again, along these roads after not being behind the wheel of a vehicle for two months, and realized how much I missed it.

I missed driving a lot.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for my awful planning skills over the past crazy month, I wouldn’t have been in the predicament I was in of sitting on a Greyhound bus for a combination of an entire day, plus a few hours.

The fact that I missed my chance of getting a regular priced plane ticket, left me with an awfully strange bus experience that made me extremely appreciate Maine’s forms of public transportation. It’s funny how this absurd amount of time doing absolutely nothing on a bus could make me want to do more of exactly that—nothing.

That first night consisted of me saying hello, and goodnight, to my family (whom I missed so much) and briskly running towards my bed.

I really missed my bed.

Halloweekend is an extremely important time, especially because it’s my birthday weekend. Due to this factor, the reasoning for a very long trip home with only Saturday to spend was mostly fueled by a significant reason.

My hair needed to be done. Very important.

The following morning started very fairly early with breakfast with family, and then the anticipation for this upcoming appointment had me energized as I entered the salon—making me feel better about missing my morning coffee.

While finally sitting in my stylist’s chair after a few months, I knew the full day of travel time would be worth it. Two and a half hours later, I was glowing—ready for the next few months until I might have to do this over again. Although, hopefully with a plane ticket instead. This dedication made me realize how important this place is to me.

I missed my hair stylist.

Halloweekend wouldn’t officially start for me until the following week in Syracuse, which caused some reassurance of how much I didn’t want to wait. The afternoon had me with a friend at the apple orchard, next to a pumpkin patch with bags of popcorn and pumpkin apples in my hands: amazing.

I knew that Halloween was my favorite holiday, so this Saturday night brought me back at this same orchard, screaming for my life, on the ground in the middle of a corn maze, being chased by a terribly sketchy creature with a chainsaw. This haunted walk left me shaking in my friend's arms, yet with an incredibly happy smile on my face.

I missed my best friends.

Saturday night, walking back into my home with the 8 a.m. bus ride in mind for the following day, I just wanted to see my family. The constant hugs and tears made me understand how little time we all have to see each other, yet how strong the bond remains—and will always remain.

This spontaneous trip to I made let me understand the complexity of growing up, being in college, and the schedule that just continues to expand. This little time frame was not a lot, but definitely reassuring—and definitely a way to deepen my smile lines.

There were also 30 minutes of happy tears when I saw my cats, I must add.

I missed my family terribly.

With such a spontaneous trip, there wasn’t much time to comprehend I was actually back home, yet the first trip home is very reassuring. You’ll quickly be reminded it’ll always be a little piece of you, and with that connection, you’ll always have with you your hometown.