being home is the nicest thing. like, so nice. i love this house and i love my family and i love a stocked clean kitchen and free wine and surprising my mom and doing homework on my queen sized bed and all of the things in my room that i keep forgetting are mine because i’m only here three months out of the year. it kills me how comforted and happy i am here and it only makes me realize how much i hate my dorm at agnes. coming home hurts but it feels so good. i don’t know, i have weird emotions. it’s weird that i feel so overwhelmingly happy here now when i couldn’t spend more than an hour near my family three years ago without feeling suicidal. i guess everything has changed? and i’m out to them now, wow, that’d weird. that’s really weird.
i don’t know i just feel 100% happy here right now. I don’t think i can live in atlanta this summer, especially if this is the last summer i’ll have as a psuedo-kid (oh wow that’s terrifying too). i miss home too much.