Leaving St. Bonaventure University on Friday morning to finally stay at my house felt good. But there was something just off about it. Sure, it’s the same home I’ve lived in for 18 years, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore. My room is the same, the kitchen is the same, everything is the same. So why doesn’t it feel like I’m at home?
The first month or so at Bonas felt strange. I wasn’t homesick, but I wasn’t comfortable. I don’t really have friends here, so there’s nothing holding me back. There truly is nothing here that should make me feel strangely attached, but that’s how I feel anyway. When I walked through the door at home, I didn’t get that comforting feeling.
After a couple of days back at home, however, getting into my car after break was the hardest thing ever. I ate homemade food for the first time in too long, we watched the Bills game and had snacks, and my mom and I went to the gym like normal. It felt so habitual again. Everything I used to know was actually still the same.
My entire life got packed up and moved into a tiny room, so I thought these major changes would also impact my home. Turns out life wasn’t put on pause while I was away. I finally caught a break from assignments and was able to resume my hobbies. I was surrounded by people who were excited to be around me and who actually cared about me. It made it difficult to come back to Bonaventure.
On top of all this, I’m also transferring to a different school next semester. Not only am I at a school with no friends, but I’m also at a school that doesn’t offer anything for me academically. It’s demotivating to be here when it feels like the classes I’m taking aren’t going to benefit me, especially in a completely different program.
Yes, this school has become my new home, but it’s not going to stay that way. In 2 months, I’ll be packing up again and adjusting to a new way of life. It’s nerve-wracking, but it’s also what’s best for my future. It makes me wonder how I’ll go back to my new old life. The school I’m transferring to is in my hometown, so I won’t be dorming. This new sense of independence will be taken away, and I’ll be back under the supervision of my parents. It’s bittersweet. Of course, I love my parents and I miss them, but I feel old enough to care for myself.
I’ll be leaving my new home to go back to my old one, but what if it never feels exactly how it did? Maybe this feeling is actually a sign of growth. I was independent, but I’d never experienced being without my family for such an extended period of time. Now I’ve learned enough about myself, and I don’t have to rely on my parents for everything. No matter what happens, I have to go back eventually.
They always say, once a Bonnie, always a Bonnie. I know Bonaventure will always be a part of my journey, but I wasn’t expecting to leave so soon. Eventually, I’ll walk out of room 451 and never open the door again. At least the friendship I made with my roommate will always be there, and the connections between professors will always have a lasting impact on my college journey. But for now, I have to go back.