As Thanksgiving approaches and my homesickness begins to peak, I've stumbled upon a moment of reflection regarding the friends I'll leave behind in favor of family for a few days.

There were a few moments in my college career thus far when I was in a not-so-ideal position. I think at this point, no matter what year we are, we've made some bad decisions, or our health took a hit, or just general stupidity ensued.

The first time I was taken under someone's wing was at a time when I felt vulnerable and confused, and then absolutely awful the next day — and I don't mean physically. I had an acute feeling of guilt that persisted even after I apologized profusely to the person who'd taken care of me, and even now when I recall that day, I feel rather ashamed of myself.

It's a strange phenomenon to be taken care of by someone who's not your mom. Before college, one parent or the other was always there to feel my forehead and just generally keep an eye on me. I mean, that's their job. But here, as many people constantly remind us college students, it is no one's job to be our mother.

It's strange, but it seems like we expect ourselves to transform into independent, responsible, ambitious role models once we enter college. It's almost inevitable, unless you already were that perfect, to stumble along the way at some point in college.

People tend to cite college as the best time of their lives, or where they find their groomsmen/bridesmaids — their true friends. I think that's because the friends we make in college are the ones who step in as caretakers when we find ourselves in need, and who tell us the next day that we don't have to be ashamed, that this sort of thing happens to everyone and that this is what friends are for. That they've got our backs.

In college, there's someone who will go and find a thermometer for you when you literally can't move from your bed (the slightest movement would disturb your stomach and vomit will probably be involved), or drive you to several different Walgreens locations in an attempt to find a pharmacy that's actually open past 9 p.m. (who would've thought it'd be so difficult?!), or support your full weight all the way across campus when you can't quite feel your legs or even just someone who will bother to text and check up on you on a casual Friday night. These someones will choose to do so, not necessarily (well, hopefully not) out of obligation, but because they actually care about you.

It makes me think about how interesting friendship is because our friends are the people we choose to spend time with, choose to make sacrifices for, and choose to show our ugliest parts to. They are people we've chosen to love and give ourselves over to.

We choose our friends over and over again, every day. That's why some friends walk out of our lives, silently and abruptly, or with the slamming of a door, or with a gradual drifting away. And why others do the opposite — becoming a constant, blossoming presence that we only become closer to with time.

And maybe that's what's so great about friends after all — they're not our family.