As Friday night rolled in, one by one my college campus became smaller in number and I overwhelmingly felt a twinge of blue fill my heart.
Home is defined as the place where one lives permanently. As a verb, home can be defined (as to an animal) when one returns by instinct to its territory.
So, as Friday night came to a close and I shut my apartment’s front door, why did I feel a sense of guilt?
According to the definition life has given, I have my permanent home that is nestled in the nice wooded area along the creek of my hometown.
My permanent home is rambunctious and in a constant state of variation, a never-ending world of helping others.
Yet, my permanent home is filled with undefinable love and the irreplaceable bond and support of family.
My permanent home is the symbolism of hard-work, and sometimes, brute love. My permanent home is my roots from which I branch off of to explore life as I know it.
I think of my instincts (or life choices) as the tree branches that would not occur without my secure and firm family roots.
My instinctual territory is my home at college, where I share a quaint dorm apartment with three other girls.
My instinctual home is liberating and invigorating.
The three strangers who make up this home soon became second family, an instinct that occurred without prior knowledge.
My instinctual home allows me to blossom into the person I am meant to be, but none of it would have happened without my permanent home’s roots.
So, when leaving for college break, I did feel that twinge of guilt and it makes sense now.
I was sad to be leaving the people who I now consider my second family, but as I currently sit in my room, I know I will feel the same exact way when I have to leave my actual family to return to my instinctual home.
Being a college student is complex when thinking about the definition of home, but I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
– Abigail ❤