I'm not quite sure where two years have gone, but apparently I only have a day left of my academic career as a college sophomore. All that stands between me and summer are an essay and a test, so naturally I'm putting both off to write this.
I pretty much always knew that I wanted to go far away from home for college. My mom's said that I've been ready to move out since eighth grade, which is probably true. Except for a short stint of wanting to stay in Boulder because it's a fantastic city, I've always wanted to get up and move and get out. Iowa made a lot of sense for that reason. I said I wasn't looking back (much) and figured I wouldn't miss home for a long time.
I wasn't totally wrong, but I definitely was not 100% right.
Turns out, I miss home. A little. Not in an I'm-discontent-here way by any means, but I'm really excited to be around my family (I've come to realize that they get me like no one else) in Colorado (where it's not so overcast all the time). That came as a surprise this year. Last year, going home wasn't all that important to me (don't take it personally, parents). This year though, I'm excited about the prospect of home. Of seeing my brothers. Of hanging out with my parents (the middle schooler of my past is gasping). Of hanging up a hammock in the tree in front of my house. Sounds peaceful.
If I were to give past Lauren (or current younger brother) unsolicited advice, it might be that you should let yourself be surprised by and okay with these feelings. Don't swear that you'll never miss home, because home might surprise you once you're away for long enough. And don't feel weak for finally wanting to be home if and when you get there, even if it takes you two years.
I'm sure I'll be full of more thoughts as it gets closer, but my flight's still a week and two days away. See ya soon, CO.