This morning I woke up for the last time in my childhood home. I'm not really sad or bummed. I don't even know what I feel about it. It feels weird and sad. I wish I could avoid coming back to this neighborhood, but my best friend still lives across the street. It'll be weird to come visit her and see people going into my house... I guess, their house.
I'm not really excited about the move or even really bummed about it. I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. It just feels like a new adventure.
This past June when I went up to Utah, I swung by my FAVORITE restaurant, The Pie Pizzeria. It was nice and the pizza was delicious, as usual. However it just wasn't the same. I've come to learn since then that it's the people that make a place better, not so much the location. I guess that's why I didn't go back to visit my mission {The New Jersey Cherry Hill Mission} while I was in Philadelphia because all of my friends weren't there. It wouldn't have been the same. I guess that's how I feel about moving away from my childhood home.....a family makes a house a home.
