I hate breaks (Thanksgiving,
Christmas, Easter, etc.) for two reasons…or rather I hate two things about
breaks. I hate leaving for break and I hate coming back break. I hate leaving
for break because I hate saying goodbye. I don’t like leaving people behind…I
spend every single day with these people. They are a part of my life. We work,
eat, play, and grow together. Sometimes, I think I’m too attached to people
because I barely know how to function without them. So, I hate leaving for
break because I don’t like leaving people…I cried at the airport dropping
people off. I cried hugging people goodbye at church. Heck, I even cried when I
didn’t get to tell someone I don’t even like goodbye. Even if I don’t like you
I’ll miss you because I don’t remember how to do life without you. Then
inevitably I spend the first 2-3 days of break lamenting my loneliness and
feeling empty and alone.
Then I start loving being on break.
Having no responsibilities, not having to worry about other people’s problems,
not being in charge of anything; just being at home with the people I love the
most and enjoying spending time with them. I’m very close to my family and I
love doing things like daddy-daughter dates to Quick Trip, having tea parties
with my sister, and helping my mom with unruly school kids. I enjoy family
dinners, playing with my animals, reading books, and watching movies. I enjoy
being part of a family again. I miss it. I miss being with my parents and
sister, I miss them so much it hurts sometimes. I miss being a big sister.
Sometimes distance and responsibilities at HAO make me feel like I’m not being
the best big sister ever. I miss my little sis. Yet during break I was able to
give her my complete undivided attention and attend the first Orchestra concert
of hers that I’ve been to in almost 3 years! She is fabulous. I just loved
being home. It was great and I suddenly didn’t want to go back. I wanted to
stay home with my family and friends. I wanted to be normal and just got to
school or whatever. I even asked my best friend from back in Missouri if she
would pack up my room for me…she told me no. I told her I didn’t want to come
back because I was scared and nervous. I was homesick and all kinds of things.
Then I told her that I would come back unless she got me Ron Weasley because if
I had Ron everything would be okay and I could handle all of the stress.
Needless to say I went back. It was
what I was supposed to do, but that didn’t make it easy. I missed my parents
and sister. I missed home…plus this time saying goodbye to Kansas was real.
This time I knew I would never be coming back for more than occasional visits
and that’s a tough place to be in. I got back to my house and loaded everything
in. Mumbled hello to my housemates that had returned before and went to my room.
I turned on my light and found that my room was completely covered in pictures
of Ron Weasley. COVERED! I counted around over 20 (so obviously not all of them
are shown here). I just started laughing and suddenly I was okay with being
back. The fact that I have friends that love and care about enough to spend
time cutting out and taping up pictures of Ron all over my room/bathroom just
to make feel better made me realize how lucky I am. So what if it’s difficult,
stressful, or away from my family. It’s where I’m supposed to be. It’s where I
want to be. Ron Weasley is my security blanket because it took me a bunch of
tiny Rons all over my room to make feel like I was home. Where I belong. As to
what it means about my feelings toward Ron Weasley…maybe just a bit obsessed
but who cares. I have the best friends in the world and thanks to them I have
the best room too.
~ Carrots
