I’ve been pretty homesick all week for a home that isn’t really my home. I suppose Hawaii is more of a home than anywhere else I’ve lived, at least thus far. It’s the longest I’ve ever lived in one place, but Georgia will pass that mark in a couple of years. It’s weird to think of myself as “from Georgia,” which is what I think I’ll inevitably become after I’ve lived here longer than six years. I’ve spent most of this week missing old and new friends from Hawaii though, which is so silly because I’m back in the town full of people I’ve been craving for three months.
I’ve noticed myself taking on my mother’s characteristics lately too. I’ve become so much tidier and I’ve been craving dark chocolate. The sore throat from sorority recruitment practice craves ginger tea with honey in it, just like mommy made it. I’ve noticed myself printing out more pictures of my family and wanting to brag to my friends about them.
I’ve never been a particularly homey person — I don’t normally get very homesick at all. I think it’s because of all the summers I’ve spent away from home and all the times I’ve had to leave a town full of people I love for a brand new adventure. I’ll say it now though: I’m homesick. Whether it’s coming out now from exhaustion, lack of privacy, or just built-up repressed feelings, I’m homesick nonetheless.
For now, Pi Phi has become my home away from home. How cheesy is that? I remember all the girls who told me that during rush last year. I disregarded it then, but I guess something in the last month and a half has clicked since then. Athens is my town and I really don’t have family anywhere close to me at all. My friends are my family here. They’re the ones who drive me to my appointments and who support me and hold me accountable for my actions. They’re the ones I brag my accomplishments to and they’re the ones who ask me if I’m okay when I’m feeling moody.
And this house. Can I talk about this house? I love how the wood on the staircase feels when I patter down the steps on my way to breakfast. Feels like home.
Rush starts tomorrow. This time I’m on the other side of things, picking the next crop of girls who will call this place home. Hopefully they will be lucky enough to feel the same way I do.
I’m in for quite the week.