When you get home, then pack up and leave again

For me, that’s one of the hardest things I had to grasp as I grow older.

As a kid, you never seem to think that you’re really going to live anywhere else but your parents house. Then, as a teenager, it’s the last place you want to be and can’t wait to leave. As a young adult, bear with me I’m still getting there, that starts to change. Your house isn’t your house anymore, it’s your parents. And right now, I’m stuck in limbo.

Currently, I’m living with my cousins, aunt, and uncle in Florida. It’s great and I love it here, but it’s not my home. But then again, neither is mine.

I left for college knowing where everything was in my house. Then I learned where everything was in my dorm. When I came back home, things changed. Stuff was moved around and some of it wasn’t there. After last summer, it changed to I knew where everything was in my apartment.

I came home for a month, got readjusted to all of the changes, and now I’m in a “new” place. I barely know where anything is. Again.

So I’m here for the next two months learning where everything is in my cousin’s house. Then, by the time I figure it out, it will probably be time for me to leave. I go home for a week then I have a whole new apartment to figure out. Which I will probably only be in until I graduate. Thus, the limbo.

But for now, I guess I’m okay with the limbo. I get to live in a bunch of different places with people who care for me. Even though I miss knowing where everything is and where I’ll be living for the next 6 months, it’s an exciting time to be “traveling” around (really wish it was Europe but hopefully that happens eventually. Preferably before I get locked down in a 9-5 job).

The one thing I’m really tired of, however, is living out of a suitcase. School: technically a suitcase because half of my clothes (usually winter) are at home. Then when I go home for breaks: carry-on. I always end up leaving something I meant to pack. And now: my suitcase weighed 46 pounds at the airport and after being here for a week I KNOW I didn’t bring enough gym shorts -_- (luckily Aunt Tonya gave me enough tee-shirts to last me a week and then some). So suitcases and I have a love-hate relationship at the moment. I think we need to go on a break.

So as I travel from “home” to “home” until I get out of this limbo and find my own, I’m going to enjoy it. Although wherever I move I have to take the bed I have at home. I seriously haven’t found/slept on a more comfortable mattress. signature

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