Home is....
Well hey everyone!
Fair warning before reading: this is basically what the contents of my brain barfed up at four in the morning after two very late nights and some extremely pissy moods.
So, I think I miss my home. Especially if you know my schedule, you might think this is absolutely ridiculous considering the fact that I've been home so much recently. But that's not what I mean when I say that I miss home.
Growing up basically my whole life I lived in this big old farmhouse. It was one of the best places ever, I loved every part of it, and every inch of our yard. My room was wonderful: it was a funky shape, and I had a window that was great for watching the weather happening, and my rainbow fan from when I was younger that I still love. The floors were creaky, and the wood was old enough that it was all smoothed down, and I even found a great hiding place that I never used (it was just enough to know that I could if I wanted to) that I found beneath a loose floorboard. The porch was wonderful, and my dad even built a back deck too. There were these two big willow trees in the back yard that were great for climbing and adventuring, and they even had this little white bench between the two of them that always looked so perfect.
Now that place is empty. At the end of my senior year, my mom moved us out to the family cottage that she bought from the family, because we were really the only ones who used it regularly anymore. It's a great place as well, but it's always going to be The Cottage, and that farmhouse is always going to be Home.
The reason I miss it is because I went straight from senior year to camp, and then three weeks after camp came college. I've always loved the cottage, and it was a second home to me growing up, but I've never had the time to adjust to it being Home.
And I know that it's the people and the memories that make a place, but that's what my house has. It holds all of my memories from growing up, the good and the bad, and they're all there. The fire pit that we made out back is a reminder of bringing the big old radio out and playing our favorite music when it got dark out. I can remember watching thunderstorms with my dad on the front porch and making forts out of the benches so that I could stay out and listen to the rain but still stay warm. The first time I read the sixth Harry Potter book was in the rockers out on the front porch after the midnight release; and running around the house because I was so excited that Harry and Ginny got their first kiss. The countless nights looking out my weather-window to see if I thought we were going to get a snow day the next day. The way I would find a way to sit next to both the christmas tree and the heater once we finally got the tree up in December. My oldest brother coming up to comfort me one day in the last couple weeks that my dad was sick, and I was just sitting on the ground underneath my loft bed. Choosing what CD to listen to to go to sleep every night, and then taking the bid running leap from the CD player to my bed, just in case something was under there. One of the nights that the power went out, and I had this great planetarium-style projector that I set up, and my dad and mom and I were just reading on the couch. My mom deciding spur-of-the-moment that my best friend and I could get one of those mini soccer goals that we'd always kind of wanted (I used the crap out of that thing).
There are so many more little memories about that fact that just make that house so perfect. And my mom is selling it, and that fact makes me incredibly sad. Loosing that house is kind of like loosing a friend.
And that is why I am homesick. Spring is around the corner, but I always celebrated spring at my house, and now I no longer can. Growing up there was fabulous, and now I don't have that anymore.
I also miss the easy atmosphere of lazing around in the summer. My mom and I always got along so much better then, and life is always grand in the summer. lately when I've been going home it's always rushed and hectic, not calming in the least. I want that easy atmosphere back.
Along with being homesick, I think I'm also just in a rut and kind of melancholy. I fluctuate between being social and avoiding people at all costs because they've started to piss me the fuck off. I realized as of today that I'm definitely straying into the avoiding people categories, which doesn't help my mood in the slightest.
I'm sorry, this was all just my own bitching and moaning and self-pity. This could not have been a fun read, but at the same time, it's nice to just get it all out.
The(MaybeNotSo)FabKid
Fair warning before reading: this is basically what the contents of my brain barfed up at four in the morning after two very late nights and some extremely pissy moods.
So, I think I miss my home. Especially if you know my schedule, you might think this is absolutely ridiculous considering the fact that I've been home so much recently. But that's not what I mean when I say that I miss home.
Growing up basically my whole life I lived in this big old farmhouse. It was one of the best places ever, I loved every part of it, and every inch of our yard. My room was wonderful: it was a funky shape, and I had a window that was great for watching the weather happening, and my rainbow fan from when I was younger that I still love. The floors were creaky, and the wood was old enough that it was all smoothed down, and I even found a great hiding place that I never used (it was just enough to know that I could if I wanted to) that I found beneath a loose floorboard. The porch was wonderful, and my dad even built a back deck too. There were these two big willow trees in the back yard that were great for climbing and adventuring, and they even had this little white bench between the two of them that always looked so perfect.
Now that place is empty. At the end of my senior year, my mom moved us out to the family cottage that she bought from the family, because we were really the only ones who used it regularly anymore. It's a great place as well, but it's always going to be The Cottage, and that farmhouse is always going to be Home.
The reason I miss it is because I went straight from senior year to camp, and then three weeks after camp came college. I've always loved the cottage, and it was a second home to me growing up, but I've never had the time to adjust to it being Home.
And I know that it's the people and the memories that make a place, but that's what my house has. It holds all of my memories from growing up, the good and the bad, and they're all there. The fire pit that we made out back is a reminder of bringing the big old radio out and playing our favorite music when it got dark out. I can remember watching thunderstorms with my dad on the front porch and making forts out of the benches so that I could stay out and listen to the rain but still stay warm. The first time I read the sixth Harry Potter book was in the rockers out on the front porch after the midnight release; and running around the house because I was so excited that Harry and Ginny got their first kiss. The countless nights looking out my weather-window to see if I thought we were going to get a snow day the next day. The way I would find a way to sit next to both the christmas tree and the heater once we finally got the tree up in December. My oldest brother coming up to comfort me one day in the last couple weeks that my dad was sick, and I was just sitting on the ground underneath my loft bed. Choosing what CD to listen to to go to sleep every night, and then taking the bid running leap from the CD player to my bed, just in case something was under there. One of the nights that the power went out, and I had this great planetarium-style projector that I set up, and my dad and mom and I were just reading on the couch. My mom deciding spur-of-the-moment that my best friend and I could get one of those mini soccer goals that we'd always kind of wanted (I used the crap out of that thing).
There are so many more little memories about that fact that just make that house so perfect. And my mom is selling it, and that fact makes me incredibly sad. Loosing that house is kind of like loosing a friend.
And that is why I am homesick. Spring is around the corner, but I always celebrated spring at my house, and now I no longer can. Growing up there was fabulous, and now I don't have that anymore.
I also miss the easy atmosphere of lazing around in the summer. My mom and I always got along so much better then, and life is always grand in the summer. lately when I've been going home it's always rushed and hectic, not calming in the least. I want that easy atmosphere back.
Along with being homesick, I think I'm also just in a rut and kind of melancholy. I fluctuate between being social and avoiding people at all costs because they've started to piss me the fuck off. I realized as of today that I'm definitely straying into the avoiding people categories, which doesn't help my mood in the slightest.
I'm sorry, this was all just my own bitching and moaning and self-pity. This could not have been a fun read, but at the same time, it's nice to just get it all out.
The(MaybeNotSo)FabKid
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