(no subject)
This happens to me. I start break wondering what the point of coming home is. I get frustrated with people and disappointed. I stay in my room making grand schemes of what to do with my time, and then I waste away with lethargy. Then things turn around. Home feels greater than a four letter word. And here I am right now, realizing I have a ton of friends at home. Some friendships used to be superficial, but most aren't anymore. And now I'm leaving things and people I love and it feels alright. I'm going to miss it (it being my parents, my room, my friends, my house, my kitchen, my street, my running route, my morning sun, my city, my bus, my typical teaneck nights and drama, my 'heart to hearts' in bathrooms, my slang, my east coast affection and attitude) more than ever, but I'd rather miss it than feel nothing at all.