A Life of Living Alone

It’s weird to be home and living with my parents again, even if it is just for two weeks during the holidays. It’s weird to have to be answering to someone else again (letting my parents know where I am and having to make sure my room is clean.) It’s kinda weird to act, or rather be treated like, a kid again.

I’ve grown so much over the past few months. I go where I want when I want. If I want food at two in the morning, I can make it without worrying about waking anyone up. I can wake up one day, at any time I want, at least on the weekends, and decide what I want to do that day. I could take a spontaneous trip to the coast or explore a new district in my current city. My life is planned only by myself. So it’s strange to be home and do not have that freedom anymore. I find myself yearning to go back; to be back in that state of living.

I love being with my family at home, but it’s still weird to be a kid again.

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