"Things Change" a look inside my journal

I recently wrote this "poem" while I was home for Thanksgiving break. I don't know what the qualifications are for something to be considered a poem, but this is just me word vomiting my feelings and emotions out.

I have realized that writing out my thoughts has always helped me to process my emotions and feelings better. This was my way of doing that, and I just wanted to share it with all of you in hopes that you can somehow relate to it or get a glimpse into my thoughts of how my life has been recently.

Things Change

By: Kayla Milligan

It’s that time yet again.
I grab my suitcase and begin to pack.
I start grabbing random pieces of clothing, unsure of what I should even bring.
I prepare to leave my friends who have become like family.
Giving out hugs left and right and wishing we could all spend the holidays together.
It’s hard when your new friends live all across the country.
I finally board a plane and prepare to travel by myself, through multiple states

The wheels touch down and I’m home.
Home.
A place where I feel safe.
A place that feels oh so familiar, yet something about it feels different.
Home is a place where I don’t have to use my GPS to go anywhere
Home is when muscle memory takes over and I remember my way around town without even realizing it.

I get to my house and pull in the driveway.
Every bump feeling so familiar.
The same driveway I’ve pulled in and out of thousands of times.
I park and instantly I feel at home.
A sigh of relief.
A breath of fresh air.
A wave of peace.
It all comes back to me, and it feels like I never left.

Everything about my house feels the same,
But I feel different.
I have changed.
I’m not the same person I was when I left my safe place for the first time.

I walk into my childhood bedroom and plop down on my bed.
The bed brings me comfort as I am flooded with memories of what my life used to be like when I lived at home.
I go over to my closet and it’s empty.
The drawers are empty and the only things hung up are my formal and prom dresses from high school that are a few sizes too small for me now.

I go to change my outfit and realize that I am living out of a suitcase in my own home.
It’s the weirdest feeling.
I turn the sink on in my bathroom and for the first time notice how the water pressure is different from my sink at school.
I turn the shower on and I am reminded of the familiar sound that I grew up hearing.

 
I feel like I’m finally getting settled in and then it's time to leave again.
I don’t want to go to bed because then that means when I wake up I have to leave my home again.
Back to the airport.
Back on a plane.
Back to school.
I love being home with my family.
I love being at school with my friends.
The hard part is the constant coming and going.
Right when I feel like I’m getting settled and in a routine, it’s time to leave again.

I hate saying goodbye.
It never gets easier.
I don’t want to make people sad by leaving.
But also it’s my own life.

And I am going to live this life to its fullest.

I guess maybe there’s no such thing as truly feeling “settled” when you’re in college.