I'm home for the week-end, and it feels weird - like the boarding school is more of a home to me than this place. And now I realize it's the environment, the small things. My stuff has been moved out of the way (e.g. my hand creams and perfumes from the bathroom to my room), most of my clothes are at school, my old room feels empty and impersonal. It's like I barely exist here. I'm being slowly erased out of the house. And it hurts a bit to notice it.
I guess I'm happier up there after all. At least to the point that when I say "I'm going home", I mean I'm going back to the school. "My mom's" is here. "My place" is there. Actually I'm surprised at how easily I've warmed up to that place. How easily I've gotten used to it. I already have a routine, some kind of life-pace. It makes me feel secure and at home. Here, I just don't know what to do. I don't belong here any more, even though I want to. It's a pity. And yet it doesn't affect me as much as it should.
/P.
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