It's strange how my own bed is so foreign to me now. A few months of staying in a different place and suddenly I don't know where home is anymore. I hate it. A lot.
As much as I miss my family, I'm glad I moved out. I definitely needed this experience; I need to keep growing up. But home isn't where my family is anymore. At this moment, home is where my stuff is - Provo. It sucks. When am I going to find my own home again? I miss the feeling of coming home. Not coming apartment. Haha, that sounds really funny, but you get my point, right? It's not the same. It's just as weird to experience as it is to say:
I want to be home.
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