In the weeks leading up to finals, I was extremely excited to go home. The stress was getting to me and I desperately missed my family. Finals were coming up and I was ready to be done with them, pack, and move back home. My house had always been a comfort for me; my room was my safe space. No bad thoughts could permeate its walls. When I locked my bedroom door, time stopped. My mother was no longer mad at me. I was no longer concerned about my grades. I didn’t have any meetings to go to. Instead, I was able to lay down on my bed and relax. I used to read all the time; the second I entered my room, I cracked open a book and I didn’t come out for hours. My kitchen was where I could blast my music and dance while cooking. My living room was where I could spend quality time with my family. My home was my solace for the first 18 years of my life. And then I went to college.
When I first arrived at school, I wanted so desperately to go back home. This place was foreign and I knew no one. However, my mind quickly changed as I made friends and got a hang of my classes. I started making amazing memories. My dorm and my friends’ rooms became my safe spaces. I became comfortable with my little campus and I grew to love it.
The moving out process was surreal to say the least. As I pulled all of the mementos off of my wall, the first wave of reality hit me. The second wave came when I had completely emptied out my room. The final wave hit as I drove away from campus. I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness that my freshman year of college was officially over. Nothing could have possibly topped this past year. In less than nine months, I had made a new home for myself and now I had to leave it.
The second I came home, I wanted to turn around and go back to school. I missed my friends and I wanted to go back to what I now considered my home. My room at home is still relaxing but it does not feel the same. I miss the crappy bed in my dorm room. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was what I was used to. I miss the desk in my dorm. It was organized and didn’t have laundry all over it like my desk at home. I miss my dresser. It was huge compared to the one I have at home.
My house is no longer my home because I made my home somewhere else and I miss that place immensely. I never thought the day would come where I no longer felt wholly content in my house but it has. This feeling comes for everyone eventually. It’s saddening. I cannot wait to go back to campus in the fall.
