8 Days, And Counting...

It is sunday night, and I am sitting on the couch in my kitchen-Joy is texting, Melissa is cleaning up the dishes, Cassandra is eating one of the last cheese rolls... This small, cinder block and speckled carpet freshman dorm has become home to me...

But I'm beginning to learn that you can have many homes. They all have their own place and time, some may last forever, while others may last for only eight months. A home can be a house, one that is lived in and cried in and laughed in and loved in. A home can be a feeling, the sigh of relief and the smile that comes when your little brother runs to meet you in the driveway. A home can be a group of friends, with inside jokes and knowing looks and embarrasing stories they'll hold over your head for years, but never tell. It can be the smell of your mom's laundry detergent, or the keys of a familiar piano... And this particular home, in which I've lived for the last 8 months, in which I've passed cleaning checks, studied for exams, talked till the early morning hours, and laughed till I cried, will no longer be mine in just three short days.

It's kind of strange to think that a whole year of college has disappeared. I am a little older... I can see where the wrinkles will form in my hands... and I am, I hope, a little wiser too. Somehow the snow flakes that covered the branches of the twin trees outside my window have turned to blossoms. Things are different. People are moving on, and going places, and changing. And in 8 days, I will be in London, England.

And hopefully, I will find a home there too.

8 days and counting...

It's all rather bittersweet.