I remember move in like it was yesterday. The pit that camped out in my stomach all weekend, the look on my mom's face when I shut to door. I was so on edge. I knew that something so incredible was in front of me, but I wasn't ready to let go of the life I had at home. I marked my calendar for October 15th. Home.

It's October 14th. I am sitting in my room awaiting the morning. Awaiting home. I've packed all that I can fit in two backpacks. It's only about 36 hours, but it's home. Why am I so anxious?

Because it is going to be weird. I am going back to my old normal, but not for long. Some might even go as far as to say it's too soon. I'm trying to imagine how different things will be. It's only been a month, I haven't missed much. Right? Wrong. It's been a month! I have done so much, experienced so much. What is leading me to believe that I'll get home, push play, and life will pick right back up where I left it? That is why I am so anxious.

I am anxious because, I did it. I broke out of my cage and flew, flew into this big old world that had been waiting for me. I have loved every second of being here, and barely find myself 'homesick.' But you see, that is why I'm scared. I'll get home tomorrow and I will recognize the things that I have missed. I'll realize how much I miss morning coffee with dad, and dancing in the kitchen with mom. It will seem like my brother grew a whole foot, but it is really just because I haven't seen him. I will smell a home cooked meal in the making, and enjoy a cheese tray as my cousins watch football in the background. I’ll get to be right back in the middle of my family and friends. All to leave again on Sunday night.

I guess this is college. Getting used to somewhere new, all to go back and realize what I am missing. Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited to go home. I guess I’m just scared to have to go through another painful goodbye. I know I’m where I am supposed to be. So home, until next time, don’t forget to remember me.