I'm going home to Pennsylvania. It's been a year since I've seen PA. I realized that within the year I have lived in Utah, visited Idaho for a day, drove through Nevada and Wyoming, and vacationed in Northern California. That's it. I have not seen Pennsylvania green in a year. I have not dealt with humidity in over a year. I have not physically touched my friends in over a year. That just makes me cry. I can't believe a year of my life has gone by without touching some of the people I love most. I've had my heart broken and I've done the breaking. I've become independent. I've figured out what I want to do with my life. I've experienced Italian sodas, monkey hugs, and the glory of the Pacific without the people I have known my whole life. I can't really put my finger on what I'm afraid of. Maybe I'm afraid that I've been gone for so long that I don't have a place there anymore. Maybe I'm afraid that they won't appreciate the Emily I am so comfortable with. Maybe they'll notice whatever weird accent I've developed. I know that they'll love me and that all of these things don't really matter. However, I feel so much older. I feel like a part of my identity is about to be recovered. That feels amazing. I can't wait to see people who love me.

Will my dog even think I'm nice?
Will my cousin laugh at my college stories?
Will my parents...

Mmh. I can't believe how much older I am. I came home last time at 19 almost 20. My parents are now 52 and 55. I'm 21. What have I accomplished? Why do I need to have accomplished something?