The funny thing about going away for college is that you never really come back, not fully at least. You’re not entirely yourself and neither is home. You both glance at each other like two stray dogs that might have met once before, and you throw a paw around and whine and pounce, and you both can’t contain all that energy. You’re excited to be home. Home is excited to have you. But you’re both different.

I will admit that I was dying to come home immediately after finals. Shit, by the time that I left, East Campus was straight up deserted. But it really really hit me when I submitted my last exam and I realized, OH SHIT, I’m going home. Returning to Hialeah this time wasn’t as traumatic as it was when I returned from SAMS/Pittsburgh, and I think it’s because then, I didn’t know when I was going to leave again. And I’m very aware that I’m obviously leaving again this time (Tuesday’s the date), but this break showed me what a blackhole this place can be. 

I’m not regretting all of the fun times that I’ve had here these past 2-and-something weeks; Really, they’ve been fun. It’s just fucking scary to see the two extremes that I can be (evident in the juxtaposition of me throughout the semester and me throughout this break). And another thing, why did the whole being-immersed-in-an-incredibly-challenging-intellectually-stimulating-thought-provoking environment thing have to wait for college? Why are we being taught that that’s only meant to happen in college? What the fuck is happening all throughout elementary, middle, and high school? Nothing? Because that’s scary. 

I’m disappointed in myself that I didn’t wake up earlier and that I allowed myself to be sunken into this hole. I enjoy Hialeah, but I can’t be here for too long. I see myself quickly reverting into someone that I refuse to be again. I long for things that go to mush when I’m here. I want to think clearly and be beyond productive again.

I’ll be home soon.