I’m home for the summer at the moment, and I am really missing uni.
It sounds bad, I know that I should love being home, but I’m just not. It was nice for about a week, a nice break from being busy- but now I’m bored. In Preston I have my own life and I can just go and do whatever I want whenever I want to do it. In the sense that, if I need to do my food shopping, I don’t have to wait for anyone, I just go. I can buy whatever food I like- and actually I don’t buy that much bad stuff. I like using my own shampoo and choosing what toothpaste I want to buy. I know that these are the little things, and they’re not really important when it boils down to it, I can live with my mother’s choice of soap and toothpaste. I can live with not having the final say in what we buy at the supermarket. But it’s just different.
University, or rather, living on my own and making those decisions for myself has changed me. I don’t feel that much different, but the fact is that now that I am home, I do miss those things. They are all little aspects of the life that I’ve been living for the last year of my life. I want to go back to that life, because it’s mine.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but I also like the life that I have made for myself- not just the one that they have made for me. I’m very grateful for the life that they have made for me, but it’s a strange kind of ‘almost-independence’ that makes me feel guilty for wanting to return to the life that I’ve carved out and tailored to myself.
I don’t know if I’m making this understandable, or if it just reads as an ungrateful selfish child having a good old moan.
The truth is that I miss my friends and the independence that I had in Preston. And I’m ludicrously excited to go back and to make my new bedroom in my new house (!) all ‘Alys’ and just get back to living a life where I actually DO stuff. When I’m at home, I don’t really leave the house very much because there isn’t any reason to; I don’t have any friends here, and I don’t have to buy my own food. In Preston, even if I was feeling a bit like I didn’t really want to leave the flat, I would have to go out at least to buy food, and that would make me feel better most of the time.
Home is a strange concept. Is home the place that I have lived for the last sixteen years with my family? Or is it the place that I have MADE my home? And if the latter is the case, then does that mean that my home is the flat that I moved out of in July?
I really don’t know, but I DO know that I really like the new house that I will be moving in to in a month’s time. And I know that I’ll always be welcome for a short holiday in my parents house. So at least there’s that.
I started this post with the intention of writing about how depressed I was at the start of summer, but now that I’ve started writing, I’m feeling much more excited than depressed. I suppose that may have something to do with the fact that when I first came home I had two and a half months of not-Preston stretching ahead of me. Now, I have five weeks. And I’ll be going up for a quick visit before that aswell, so I’m actually feeling a bit more positive. I’m VERY ready to go back now, I’ve had a nice break, but now I want to go home and get my life happening again. Also, I may have mentioned on this blog before, but I absolutely LOVE autumn, so maybe I’m a bit biased about this time of year…
That’s your lot for now, I don’t want to exhaust all of my thoughts (here read: blogging material) in one post, so I’ll love you and leave you!
Have a lovely day,