As I packed up the final bag and took one long last look at my childhood home, I realized something I never thought would cross my mind: I was actually going to miss this place.
Growing up is a funny thing- we always crave what’s ahead and behind, but never what we have in the moment. We nod our heads politely and then mock with rolling eyes when adults tell us to “cherish the time you get at home”, longing for the days when we get to move out of our cozy, well-kept, supervised bedrooms and into dingy, dusty, dirty old dorms.
And then suddenly, as if no one ever warned us that it would happen, we get upset when reality hits and we realize all too late just how damn good we had it.
After moving into my new home away from home this weekend (you never notice how insanely true all those college cliches are until you’ve experienced them firsthand), I can 100% attest to the previous statement. 72 hours in and I’m already starting to long for the familiar suburban streets and convenient 5 minute drives to Target. Did you know people still walk places? Ugh, life is hard.
But perhaps more daunting than the intensifying sense of nostalgia creeping into my annoyingly sentimental soul is the unsettling amount of nerves running through my body. Though my new space is growing homier and cozier by the minute (shoutout to my kickass roommates), the foreign unfamiliarity I feel wandering the streets of Austin is just… strange. Imagine feeling like an out of place tourist, only 24/7.
I find myself getting so nervous I forget even the simplest of things: How do I parallel park? Why the actual hell does every road seem to travel one-way in any direction but the way I need it to? How do I act normal now that I live in a co-ed building with plenty of cute Longhorns? What have I just gotten myself into and how do I go on from here?
If anyone can answer those or the seven billion other stupid questions circulating my brain, please let me know. In the mean time, I’m going to go learn how to adult.