Coming home after a year away at college can feel quite bittersweet. You have been on your own taking care of yourself without your parents there to witness it, so, unfortunately, they still don't view you as an adult. You feel as though your grown-up freedoms and luxuries are stripped from you and that unjustified Taco Bell runs at 2 a.m. are no longer as rational or accepted as they were at college. At the same time, you are almost relieved that some responsibilities are lifted and that you no longer have to trek through the pouring rain at 1 a.m. because that's your only free time to do your laundry.

That feeling when you come home from college, but it doesn't quite feel like home again, is one that only grows stronger as the time goes on. It's a hard fact to face that you are no longer tied to your hometown or the people there other than your family. You drive past your old high school every day, but feel like you would be a stranger should you decide to stop by, and everyone you care to see has moved on with their life just like you.

The reality is that your hometown is now just a place full of memories but void of the people you made them with. The more I think about that truth the more I realize that home is definitely not a place. A place without people is merely sightseeing, and while the views and memories may be pretty, your real home lies with the people capable of making new places memorable.

Nothing is quite like the crazy picture you paint in your mind, and I promise you, coming home for summer has been nothing like the Van Gogh I had imagined. Most things changed, and quite a few left my life entirely. There are empty rooms that were supposed to be filled, and my room filled with storage when it was supposed to be empty and waiting for me. I kept staring at the glass table stored in my room and wondered, other than physical differences, what has changed to make home feel so foreign. That's when I realized it's not always the place that has changed; sometimes it's you.

I guess that's just it; life's not always a Van Gogh. Sometimes it's a Picasso. It's not always blatantly obvious what the purpose is and sometimes it's a mess, but at the same time, it all means something in the end. Today I saw a news story that one of Picasso's abstract paintings had sold for 180 million dollars, and I sat there and realized, sometimes all you need is a little visual representation to remind you everything is going to be OK.

So here's the thing. While all of you have large changes in your lives, like coming home from college and realizing everything is different, take a second look because that change (or changes) that looks like a mess could very well be much more valuable than you think. Just remember, college may feel more like home than your hometown recently, but it teaches you that it's the people that make the place. So as your definition of homesick shifts to missing your roommates and adult life, don't take time with your parents for granted. They may be the only constant factor remaining in your hometown, but they are still crucial members of the group that your so-called "home" is composed of.