I'm definitely not at home. There are a couple clues: I don't have a hundred siblings, my house is not an incredibly intimidating brick colossus, and my room is not clean.
However, I'm starting to feel like its home. The summer camp sensation is slowly dissipating. I realize my room is not just temporary and that I still have three Sundays before I can go back.
The "we won't be together too long so I don't need to really socialize with my roommate" attitude is gone. We talk all the time. We've become like Jane and Elizabeth Bennett, giggling before bed, and conspiring to avoid room check because we're too lazy to go sit by our door. We keep each other responsible for being clean for our stuff, without nagging each other. We are like a highly efficient machine, already compensating for what the other cannot do.
Meal times aren't awkward anymore. Its deciding which sibling I want to sit next to with each meal of the day. I don't fear people judging how much/what I eat because have you ever seen 10 boys, all working their brains and bodies, eat at the end of a long day? I feel anorexic compared to them! Even when we play with our food, and our pseudo-parents tell us to behave.
Walking to class is like being homeschooled. The most work gets done the farther away from a comfy place you are. Except my study room is a corridor connected to incredibly high-tech classrooms.
This place has become homey. Not a homie (although it is filled with mah homies! haha not really) but gives off the aura of home. I'm not in an institution of school, I'm in an environment of learning and acceptance.
And I'm thinking that I'm finally not the youngest anymore, I have an incredibly spiffy house, and cleanliness is quite refreshing.
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