Home. I miss it.
Home is where the heart is. It’s where there are hugs and kisses and lots of love. There are no tests and stressful nights of studying. There is no goopy pizza and dried out pasta but amazing food that fills the house with delicious smells.
Home is where your family is. People who love your angry, playful, sad, annoying and excited side. People who love you despite the number of mistakes you make. People who love you through anything and no matter what. People who love you unconditionally.
I went home for the first time after moving in to my dorm and it was a shock.
I walked inside my house and smelled the delightful smell of food cooking, my mom’s perfume and the good old smell of my wonderful house. I saw the familiar black and grey granite counter in my kitchen and the wonderful white couches in the living room. I saw my Wi-Fi connect without being prompted and I saw the stress fall off of my shoulders as I walked around my home drinking it all in. But I saw something else too, I saw how my family was acting around me. I saw how they had created a routine that excluded me. I saw that they were set in new ways of keeping the house straight and none of those ways included me. I saw how mature my 9-year-old sister became. I saw how my parents worked around each other to do the simple chores of the house. I saw how their life was, without me.
I can’t help but feel that they are doing just fine without me. I selfishly wanted them to leave room for me. To leave me something to do. To let me get back into the old habits of what I used to. My family had a whole new routine that I was unfamiliar with. A whole new way of doing things and completing things that I had no idea about. I had nothing to do except sit there and watch them move things around, complete tasks and take on new responsibilities that I’m not able to take on since I don’t live there anymore. It feels disappointing because I am not as involved as I was, only 3 months ago.
Going to college has made me a stronger, independent woman but when I go home, I become a big baby who latches on to my family and never wants to let go. A big baby who wants to be woven through every single thing my family does, talks about or decides on. Now that I am 4 hours away, always busy with activities and homework, I feel like a separate entity from my family. Even though I know my family misses me. Even though I know my family loves me. Even though I know my family would anything and everything for me. I love them so much that it turns me into a big infant who doesn’t want to let go.
Being away from my family… it is quite a bittersweet feeling.
