A holiday

When I left home this afternoon for the two-hour drive back to the university, I realized it felt more like being on vacation than being home.

When I lived at home, it was unbearable. Everyone yelled, everyone argued, everyone got depressed. Apparently, it's quieted down a bit since I left, but things are still tense. I'm glad I got out. I couldn't have stood another year of this.

Now, everyone misses me and I miss them. So when I go home, it's a big circle of love. Bro lets me smother him with play kisses and Sis snuggles up with me to watch movies. Mom asks me what I want to eat and fusses over my curls and wants to buy me nice shampoo, and Dad... well, it's Dad. He kisses me hello and says it's nice to see me and asks me if I've decided to be a math major yet, and then he changes the topic when I say I'm sticking with biology. Plus, no one actually asks me to do any chores. I just do 'em 'cause I'm a responsible college student, yes m'am!

It's like a vacation, but it's just an ordinary weekend. Except it's not every weekend, so I guess it makes it extra-special.

That's the point, though. It's not home, but it's home. I know where everything is in the kitchen. I take things out of closets, I wrap presents, I clean dishes, I laze about in my PJs, I take out the recycling, I get the paper... But I feel like I'm on vacation.

It's a nice feeling.

And yet it makes me feel strangely lonely.