As my senior year approaches and it becomes time to decide where I want to spend the next four years (and possibly the rest) of my life, the proximity of the school I chose to my home has become a vital characteristic in my search for a suitable college. For years I have counted down to the time that I could finally move out of this secluded, little bubble filled with mean girls and dumb boys. But as the time grows closer, I realize something I never thought I would say before.

I love my secluded, little, suburban bubble.

I’ve learned the best places to get late night ice cream and when the best time it is to go to that diner with the best pancakes to avoid the wait.

I’ve grown familiar with the high school rivalries and where in town to go to celebrate wins (and even losses) after the loud games in our turf stadium.

I’ve memorized every trail on the local state park and where to sit on the rocks so you can avoid bugs while still having the chance to take in the breathtaking views of the water.

I know where to get my coffee before school and what’s quick to order so I’m not late (even though I usually am anyways).

I know what restaurants to avoid when I’m out with my family purely for the reason that I know half the kids on the wait staff.

I know what diner has the best late night food and I’m on a first name basis with the waitress who always seems to be working when I go.

For years I heard rumors about that “haunted” house around the corner from my childhood friend’s house and, despite all the dares, I never once set foot anywhere near that property.

I know the owners of the local boutique that I love shopping at because their daughter was always on my little league softball team (and they always seem to give me a little discount because of that).

For years I hated this secluded bubble. Couldn’t wait to finally move away from the drama and the people.

But that was it, just the petty high school drama. When I look beyond that, there’s nothing I hate about this place.

I love the familiarity that each road and each house holds. Because that is what home should feel like. Familiar. And I can’t imagine the day I’ll have to leave these familiar streets for new, unfamiliar ones.