The time has come. You have been counting down the days on your calendar: two months to one month to two weeks to the final seven days. You are about to leave home for college, and your head refuses to accept the fact -- but your bank account certainly knows. How can you tell that it is your last week home?

Evidence of the final days is the goodbyes. You have been in the exact same spot for the entire summer. However, now, without warning, everyone from your distant cousin to the friends you have not seen since graduation are texting you. Everyone eagerly wants to “see you before you leave!!” This is sweet, but not when you have to divide these seven crucial days between packing and saying farewell. Who do you choose?

Speaking of packing, your room is a mess. Granted, it usually is a disaster, but now, everything is put away -- for the most part. Loaded bags are everywhere; the discarded items are abandoned on either your bed or the floor. You are afraid to zip up that suitcase or duffel bag because, frankly, you never know what you are going to need in this overwhelming week. Then, you are still questioning: what do you pack? Everything but the stove?

Your room is a fiasco, and so is your head. How do you feel about leaving? One day, you are excited and gushing about how you can not wait to leave the house. The next, you are nervous and refusing to leave the security of your bed. Raving to your friends about how beautiful the campus is; confirming last-minute plans with your new roommate. Telling your mom you love her twice in five minutes; unreasonably worried about making sure that your pets know you are not dead once you depart. Sure, this topsy-turvy roller-coaster of emotions is expected, but that does not make the difficult ride any easier.

The most tragic sign of this week, however, is that now, everything is a "last time." All right, sure, you are coming back for breaks and holidays and, if possible, spontaneous weekend trips home. But for the time being, everything you do rings with finality. You are walking down that street for the last time -- until you come home again. You are eating at your favorite restaurant like it is a final meal because -- unfortunately -- they do not have a location near your college. This week is the last time you are doing any of this as the person you are now.

In conclusion: this ultimate week is the toughest battle yet -- that is, until the

last things slip into first everything. There is no way around this, but from someone in the same boat: you and I will be okay.