The months/weeks leading up to move-in, I was always super excited to start my new chapter in life. Going to Target once/twice a week to get miscellaneous things for my dorm room, constantly texting my roommate to make sure we didn't get two of anything, having my room slowly fill up with boxes as I packed up my clothes and every new thing we bought. Everyone would ask me if I was nervous for college, and I would always respond the same way; "No, I'm actually really excited."
The night before move-in, the last time I could hug my boyfriend goodnight, I lost it. It was hard to believe that that was my last night in my house for a while--the last time I would walk downstairs when I was hungry at midnight, looking for something small to take up to my room (even though my mom said not to). I knew I would be back for breaks, but for some reason, I knew it would be different. I would be different. My views would change, my looks would change, maybe even my values would change.
The morning of move-in, as soon as I woke up, I felt different. I felt more grown-up, more mature, more free. Packing up every box seemed to take forever and as I pulled away from my house, I felt a new adventure on the road in front of me. I was so excited to start MY life with my best friend by my side, but it felt so strange not having my mom to tell me what to do every step of the way or my dad cracking jokes to see me laugh. Leaving for college taught me that I shouldn't have taken every moment with my parents for granted. That I should have told them I loved them more. I know that whenever I go back home, my relationship with them will be different in such a good way. Although I can't wait to start my own journey, I also am ecstatic to rekindle my relationships with my family back home.
