It’s hard to make a place feel like home. It’s even harder to leave a place after working hard and successfully making it your home.
Last night, I went to sleep in the bed I share with my sister in our parents’ home. This morning, I woke up in the same place, stumbled out of bed, tripped on my dog, and went on a dimly lit search for a bathroom. This place isn’t my home.
My home is a dormitory in Hawai’i where I have to wear shoes to go to the kitchen and be dressed decently to do my laundry. I can play loud music on the weekend and rearrange the lounge to do my homework in comfort. I tell everyone that I want them to meet my sisters and I make sisters out of the girls I share space with.
I miss it.
Feeling homeless in a house is probably the worst thing about graduating from college and moving back “home.”