It's coming. Today was the first day word was actually mentioned about moving out of our house. I've known it's been coming, but today was the first day it's been talked about as something that is actually happening in the foreseeable future. Whoa. For those of you that need a back story, I've lived with some of my best friends for the last two and a half years in a fantastic house right across the street from campus. For two years, it was me and three of my best girlfriends. Living with Courtney, Meghan, and Brielle is something I truly cherish and wouldn't change the opportunity for anything. Brielle graduated in four years (who does that?) and so two boys moved in, which has been awesome in its own funny and wildly entertaining ways. In the past, I have freaked, like totally freaked, at any sense of oncoming change. It's Saturday night at 1:15. I worked until 11:30 and decided to not go out. Here I am. My heart is starting to race a little at the thought of leaving my "home" so here I sit, typing on my laptop once again. To start, I need to distinguish "home" from "home home". This is something we've come up with over the years. Our house, 41 Williamsburg, is "home". "Home" is where our best friends are who have quickly turned into family. "Home" is where we have built memories, laughed together, cried together, fought together. "Home home" is where we go to over the holidays. It feels weird to call it our "parents' house" because that gives the sense that we're established adults who don't go home; they go to their parents' place. No way. Not yet. "Home home" is where Mommy and Daddy are. It's where we grew up. It's comfort. But, "home", "home" is this place. I'm trying a new thing. As I think about it a little more, my heart beats just a little faster knowing I have to learn how to acknowledge and accept change. We all know I'm not the best at this, but who is? I'm looking at the positives...but really looking at them. Moving out of this place is going to be hard, like really hard. I'm dreading the moment I close the front door for the last time. So, let's look at the positives. Let's think about all the beautiful, fantastic, hysterical memories we've made from this place. Here we go. Brielle, remember when you and I were the only ones home getting ready to go out blasting Beyonce? You danced on the kitchen counter. Remember when we all watched Paranormal Activity and then Nick hid in my closet? For some reason I threw a tuna can at him. Remember when we did No-Shave November and practically clogged the drain on December 1st? Remember all the times we used each other's closets as our own? Remember that time I made you guys "apple cider" and put in chocolate wine? Remember that time the cops came and we talked to him outside wearing our prom dresses? And when piggy-backs on New Years' Eve seemed appropriate? Remember when we thought (or maybe just I did) that there was a cat in our walls so we investigated the attic? Remember that time we played to "roommate game"? Remember when we played Buzz and made number 8 something we probably shouldn't have? Remember that time we made really great togas? Remember our Christmas card? Remember all those times that the four of us have somehow managed to accidentally match our outfits? Remember when we painted our chalkboard wall? Remember our first "formal"? Remember when we posed like animals at our Christmas party? And don't forget our super awesome Christmas tree. And the day you guys threw me my 21st birthday party? That was the best day of my life. Remember that time Courtney did this... And this... And then there's this... And remember when we thought taking pictures like this was normal? And you can't forget about Brielle... Or Jeff... And say "hello" to Joho... We would even advertise "41" anywhere we could... Enough for now. I think you get the picture. Over the years, we've gained quite a few memories. Sometimes I wish I could go back and re-live it all over again. Other times I just remind myself how thankful I am to have these memories with such incredible people. The last two and a half years have gone faster than I could have ever imagined and the idea of leaving in only a little over a month from now kind of freaks the crap out of me. It will happen. Days will pass and so will weeks. The day will come when I close the door for the last time, but I will not be closing the door on my "home", my family, my memories.
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