My mom says, “You will have to leave the nest to spread your
wings and fly.”
When she first said it, which was when we both were waiting for my dad at a mall, the morning I was to be dropped off at the P.G., I thought she was getting emotional and would start crying the next minute.
My first night at the P.G., I was alone. My roomie, who I’d met in the afternoon that day, was spending the night with her mum. It was dark. But I’d spent nights alone before. I was used to it.
It wasn’t as scary as I’d thought it to be. I’d met my flatmates. They were there. I wasn’t all alone…
Two days later, the second day of college, was a Thursday.
I was impatient to get back to my room. So I asked my P.G.mates, my friends, whether they were ready to go. They looked at me weird. I’d called the P.G. ‘home’.
Since then, it’s been my home away from home.
Yeah, I live right there, near the city. I can go home whenever I want. But I don’t. And I don’t think I want to.
All of us here practically behave like we’ve known each other for forever. Well almost, anyway.
With the passing days, we’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s best not to judge the other person. That we should accept them for all the craziness that they are. That we’re all pretty similar.
And I think we have.
Within a week, we’d started making fun of each other, hanging out in the city together and celebrated a birthday. We’d made so many memories, in those few days when we’d barely known the others.
Yes, we miss our families practically all the time. Yeah, we miss our friends and the comfort of our beds. This is probably one of those times when we actually miss home-cooked food. We miss them all, together. We’re in the same boat.
I’m not sure if everyone feels this way, but this feels a lot like home.
When she first said it, which was when we both were waiting for my dad at a mall, the morning I was to be dropped off at the P.G., I thought she was getting emotional and would start crying the next minute.
My first night at the P.G., I was alone. My roomie, who I’d met in the afternoon that day, was spending the night with her mum. It was dark. But I’d spent nights alone before. I was used to it.
It wasn’t as scary as I’d thought it to be. I’d met my flatmates. They were there. I wasn’t all alone…
Two days later, the second day of college, was a Thursday.
I was impatient to get back to my room. So I asked my P.G.mates, my friends, whether they were ready to go. They looked at me weird. I’d called the P.G. ‘home’.
Since then, it’s been my home away from home.
Yeah, I live right there, near the city. I can go home whenever I want. But I don’t. And I don’t think I want to.
All of us here practically behave like we’ve known each other for forever. Well almost, anyway.
With the passing days, we’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s best not to judge the other person. That we should accept them for all the craziness that they are. That we’re all pretty similar.
And I think we have.
Within a week, we’d started making fun of each other, hanging out in the city together and celebrated a birthday. We’d made so many memories, in those few days when we’d barely known the others.
Yes, we miss our families practically all the time. Yeah, we miss our friends and the comfort of our beds. This is probably one of those times when we actually miss home-cooked food. We miss them all, together. We’re in the same boat.
I’m not sure if everyone feels this way, but this feels a lot like home.
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