There's no place like home, and some people are lucky enough to call Henniker just that. The four-year residency that we Pilgrims take is like playing on a seesaw: full of peaks and valleys. When I think of Henniker, I associate it with everything I have been through during college—friendships, relationships, arguments and lots of changes. Henniker is a town that I didn't learn to appreciate until this summer. Back in 2012, as a prospective student at New England College, it was the only place that I felt I would really fit in. Not only was the school very accommodating but the people there were welcoming. By the time my freshman year came, I was ready to graduate. Even the last weeks of my senior year weren't very sentimental. I had been through so much over the past four years in this town, I didn't know how I felt, whether I was happy to graduate or going to miss it.

For the first time in months my feelings were clear. This summer I took a few trips up to Henniker to take care of some business and I was flooded with emotion. Tears rolled down my face as I drove down Bridge Street. I was shocked with my own reaction to being in the small town and never expected that. For years it was the place that I cursed for not having anything fun to do in it, for the judgmental people who resided in it, for the twenty-minute commute to Concord and of course HPD's ability to actually follow the law and arrest all my friends for doing "college" things. But now that I am no longer a student at NEC or a resident of Henniker, I am overcome with an immense feeling of nostalgia. I wish I could have just one more year of sharing an apartment with my friends or even living in the dorms again. I wish that I could bundle up in my snow boots and beanie and join my colleagues for bingo in the Simon Center. I wish I could take shots with Dennis, make the trek over to Hall Ave in heels on a Saturday night, hide in a laundry basket from the cops, wake up on a Sunday to a bagel from St. G's for breakfast and a Gatorade from Coco's or even the little things, like driving by Pat's Peak to get to Dunks and then ingesting a calzone from Sonny's for dinner.

When I was a student, many alums would visit NEC every weekend. My friends and I called them losers, told them to get a life and just move on. Now I realize that Henniker is like a black hole—you always get sucked back in. Getting off the exit and the sensation of being home is what we desire. We always come back for more because four years just isn't enough. Dear Henniker, you will be in my heart forever. I already know that I will not be waiting until alumni weekend to make my first visit up there again.