The essence of home has shrunk for me. Up until I left for college, the house that I grew up in for 18 years felt like my rock. But when I graduated high school, I couldn't wait to leave. I literally spent everyday in the city (being Minneapolis/St. Paul) with a looming attitude of "I'm never coming back when I pack these bags." Little did I know that it wouldn't be the physical things that would permanently leave, but my heart and mind.
The summer between my Senior year of high school and Freshman year of college was pretty rough. I used the emotions that I accumulated that summer and tried to completely eliminate them from my psyche. But with every wound, leaves a scar. Throughout my Freshman year I slowly let go of all the things that made me feel something at home, and put them to rest. It was the most liberating thing to not give a care about the things from my past, and I grew so much from simply letting go.
On every break I found myself with nothing to do.. My life had transitioned from a world centered in suburbia to a world centered with my head in the clouds. I wandered the city; going to new places every single day. I had big dreams, and I guess I still do.
The summer between my Freshman and Sophomore year of college was so foreign to me at first. I had found love with another girl again, and it was weird because none of my good friends even knew about it. It was one of those spontaneous, spur of the moment flings that turned into something so strong. Something about the secrecy of it made me feel so alive. I was whipped in love and spent every night whisking the streets of Uptown and the greater downtown Minneapolis/St. Paul with her. The girl that I spent most of the summer with was 4 years older than me, and we would frequent local bars/hang outs. Being 19 years young I felt like I was growing up so fast. We talked about things I said I would never talk about so young (the future, moving together, etc.). I became so dependent to the love that we had that I lost the visions of who I wanted to become.
Going into my 2nd year of college, I moved away from the Twin Cities and back to Grand Forks. I parted ways with my family, and I felt like I only had two or three close friends from my hometown.. For the first time I was comfortable saying goodbye to everyone. I established a brand new life at college and met so many people in such a short period of time that I sincerely call my "close friends." Towards the end of that semester, I lost the relationship I had with the girl I had spent my entire summer with. Even though she lived in another bigger city nothing like Minneapolis, I felt like that was the last bit of closure I needed at home. At that moment, Minneapolis/St. Paul wasn't home for me anymore. I only had two close friends there and that's it.
And now here we are at the present, and I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing or where I'm at. I'm currently at my parents house that they are in the process of selling. I spent a week at my condo in Florida and another week shopping for a place for my parents to live once they retire later this year. Yeah, I sort of reconnected with my family again, but it obviously wasn't the same. We still don't see eye to eye, and I don't plan on coming back to "home" again after this semester.
What I'm trying to illustrate for you is that I lost home. Every place I go is plagued with markers that illuminate certain points in time that once made me feel. I can't go to the airport to watch airplanes without thinking about the deep conversations I've had with people that are now out of my life for good. I can't go to Uptown without thinking about the love that I lost. I can't go to Applebee's without thinking about the stares, comments, and whispers that my peers from high school put in my head. I can't drive past my old high school without thinking about spending every single lunch period in the TV studio by myself. It's hard to call a place home when it's really not home in your heart.
This break I've found myself thinking about the future. I stay up into the wee hours of the morning trying to make these big goals and plans, reality. I freakishly plan out things with spectacle amounts of detail. I feel like through the sleepless nights and my time alone, I've found myself. I've learned so much about myself and where I want to be because for the first time in a long time, I'm completely independent. I don't have anyone peering over my shoulders to check my course of action. I'm steering my own ship, and it's pretty damn cool.
When I packed my bags for college a year ago, yeah, I came back to visit once and a while. But mentally, I left for good. I don't know where home is anymore, but part of me thinks it's in the clouds. I have these dreams that aren't localized to a certain geographic area anymore. I could end up
anywhere, and that is awesome/scary at the same time.
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With all of that information, I frequently think to myself:
Did I sacrifice relationships for this road?
Am I even on the right path?
Where exactly am I going?
If this doesn't work out, who do I have?
Will I ever come off of these clouds?
Will I be stuck in this figurative Purgatory forever?
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"It's weird how you can have so much, but feel so alone."
Will I be alone forever? Did I set myself up for this?
I don't want to end up
alone.
Will Biernat
Home // Alone
