I never imagined my first night back (and, of course, my first day of school) to feel like this. Calm, normal... not even remotely exciting. Some boxes still linger in the corner of my room; they haven't moved since the first day I dropped them there two months ago, eager to get the move over with. My suitcase is still packed with clothes since I was far too lazy to unpack last night. Lazy? Was that really the reason? Or am I merely hindering myself from feeling wholly welcome in this room? This house? This area?
Perhaps I want a continual reminder of how this place, no matter how much I may wish it to be, will never feel like home.
