i literally just wanna go to concerts, make out, cuddle, and sleep a lot

(Source: ohceanic)

It has recently occurred to me that my definition of home is actually quite loose.  I have yet to pinpoint my “home” in one specific description.  However, this doesn’t mean that I can’t miss home.  And missing home is exactly what I’m doing right now. 

After being 900 miles away from VA for the past 4 months, I have come to appreciate many of the little things that I have taken advantage of.  I don’t just miss my house, my bed, my family, but I miss moments as well.

I miss my JMU home. I miss laughing with my suitemates until my ribs hurt so bad I can’t breathe.  I miss having crazy dance parties all the time and at the most awkward times.  I miss getting excited for peanut butter pie every two weeks now and then searching for cute puppies on the quad.  Drinking lots of boxed wine and sitting on fields listening to bluegrass music.

I miss hearing my sibling talk when they think no one is listening to them.  I miss having them ask me 5 bajillion questions and secretly getting annoyed but excited at the same time because they actually care what I think.  I miss them looking up to me with their big brown eyes and seeing nothing but their awesome big sister.  It’s the type of feeling that nothing can replace.  No matter how many small children I see that I can make magic for, the ones who I strive to make magic for the most are my siblings.

I miss Taylor and planning our lives and talking about our love for all things Disney.  Our obsessions with cleanliness.  Jamming hardcore in the car and playing drunen Apples to Apples.  I miss being close with my roommates and always having my door open.

I miss the days when my parents called me and asked me if everything was okay. I miss having time to read books and travel to far away lands into my imagination. I miss high school and how you didn’t REALLY have to study that much.

Individually all these things that I miss sound completely ridiculous.  But put them together and something beautiful happens.  The weave together and create my definition of home.  It doesn’t matter how young or old, when, or where, they all have a special place in my heart and I miss them dearly.

I miss home.

Enough stuff.