Don’t get me wrong, I love it here, but there are a lot of little things I miss about home.
I miss Leslie Anne’s couch. I miss how it was just a thirty second speed drive from my house, and then I could be there watching movies and playing music with her and Patrick.
I miss my kitchen. I miss having the ability to look at what we had in the fridge, and just take three ingredients and make myself lunch. I miss being able to surprise my parents with an awesome dinner.
I miss my dog. I miss how Mom would send her to wake me up, but she’d actually just curl up and sleep in the bed with me. I miss the way she’d always try to lick my mouth and I’d have to push her away, and she’d just jump back up.
I miss my car. I miss the Land Cruiser and the Accord, the way I could just hop in and put on a CD, and have me time, just listening to music and driving.
I miss driving other people places. I miss how Megan would always take control of the music, how Jazzmyne and I would just talk. I miss being able to be the buddy in the driver’s seat.
Hell, I miss seeing the same people regularly, at least once a week, that I’d known for years.
I miss my room. I miss all the posters and bobbleheads staring down at me, the cloudy sky blue walls, the dark wood bed.
I miss my family. I miss seeing them every night, my dad’s sense of humor, my sister’s craziness, my mom’s tone of voice.
I miss home. A lot. I love it here, but I still miss it.
