CAMARADERIE

2. Home sweet home

After my parents and I got back home, 

they gave me a bit of privacy to fully arrive which I strongly really needed.

After getting in dads car and driving by all these old and familiar buildings, people and places, I found myself realizing that this is real. I am back and I probably won't leave in the next few weeks. This is my home again. The place I couldn't bring myself to stand back then, when I was preparing for college. It feels... Well strange.
As if I had never left and time stood still.

Now that I am sitting on my bed in my old room with the decorations and posters that I've hung when I was probably 13, I feel especially lost.
It feels as if I had never left.
As if I was still 18 and stubborn.
As if I took five steps back and could not move forward.
So I let myself fall back on the mattress that holds my childhood dreams captive and take a long breath. There is something about this moment that feels strangely warmish. It might be the golden sun strikes, which fall through the window and onto the floor as if they'd be trying to drown the room in light.
It might be because this room holds so many memories and every one of them seems so close and far away at the same time.
Or it might just be this whole thing that is happening. Being back where you've grown up gives you a bit of the safety back you felt when you were a kid. Fully depending on your parents, without a care in the world other than the daily hope that the weather would turn out fine so you could play outside.
It's the security of not being the only one and to be honest, it's so soothing, I wanna close my eyes and enjoy it.

And that's what I do. I close my eyes and breath in the old scent that I used to wear in high school. The chatter of my parents downstairs and one or two cars driving by. Just like it used to be from day one on.
Total relaxation and happiness lulls me in like a cuddly blanket and I feel myself drifting away into the deepest, most settling sleep I had in ages.

Waking up a few hours later, I try to figure out what's going on. My eyes try to see through the darkness that now swallowed my room and my hand naturally glides to my face, to rub the sleep away from it. As soon as I remember where I am and what I am doing, my gaze falls to the clock over the bedroom door. It's 2:30 am and I feel gross.
I always hated sleeping in street clothes. Not only was it uncomfortable but it was also unhygienic. I grabbed two towels from the second cabinet in my wardrobe and walked into the bathroom, where I turned on the shower to let it warm up. I inspect myself only shortly in the mirror. There is still nothing impressiv about me to say, my hair is still a light shade of blonde, the only thing that has changed is, that I've cut it 2 years ago to chin lengh when I hoped a change would make me like the situation more. My hearthshaped face is still as pale as always, which draws a contract and compliments my naturally red lips. My eyes look tired and a bit red. The greenish blue pupils stare back at me, bored of what they are looking at.
I might not look too bad, rather normal if you'd ask me but I always wondered how it would be to come back to my home town as a bombshell. Something no one can resist and then maybe I'd acknowledge other guys more.
My body stopped developing after turning 14 I assume. It would explain my breasts who can barely fill out a b cup and my in general flat built body. There aren't really curves or charms but that's one of the things I came to accept over the years.
Loving oneself is a basic step of general success and those who don't love themselves will never be able to accept love from others.
It took me a while, not gonna lie but loving yourself doesn't mean you cannot have any insecurities, it's more about knowing them and see the perfection in that flaw, it gets easier after some time.
I step into the now steaming shower and start to wash my hair and body, letting the water absorb every little inch of me.
I always loved hot showers but my parents (who had to pay the water bills) and Jack (who used to want to shower with me), they didn't.

After I let my muscles relax under the water, I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.
I dried myself and put on some old, long grey pj's. Now I am sitting in my bed, checking my emails.

My friend Lisa texted me, asking if I was doing good and if I arrived well.
The same goes for Milow. I know I will miss my friends I made in the last years. They became my rock and were always by my side when I needed them.
I am so grateful to have met them, I can't stress that enough.
I reply to them and then proceed to get out of my room and downstairs where the fridge is.
And as I open the refrigerator I know I made the right decision. I take out the pot of spaghetti and put it into the microwave. While I am waiting for my meal to be ready I develop a bit of a guilty conscience. I didn't even eat with my parents, even though they were looking forward to it a lot. I am sure they'll understand that I was tired but at the same time I feel like I owe at least my best self to them after they took me in again in the momma nest.
Guiltily devouring the pasta I look around me. There's not a lot changed and I have a feeling that this will apply to everything here.