Yesterday was the last day I was home for winter break. It was dusk, and I approached my window to close the blinds. Pausing, I looked outside, and the fog of nostalgia descended. But something wasn’t quite right. I got down on my knees. There. That was the view I’d gazed upon for years, from standing there as a five year old, to sitting at my desk as a fifteen year old. I’ve always had a tendency to stare off into the distance, not quite lost in thought but lost somewhere in my mind. I remembered once sketching the house across the street, complete with trees, bushes, mailbox, and power lines. So many memories, tied up in this place I call home. Leaving is so hard. The real world calls.
January 2, 2019