Coming home is like an emotional breakdown for me. It's like coming back to everything I used to take for granted, now knowing that the time I spend with my family is limited, the friends I've made have gone on their own adventures, and my bed isn't mine forever. Why does it have to be this way? Why do we take it all for granted, wait for that one day we get to finally leave the house, and let those important, priceless memories and emotions slip from our minds because we are so "ready" to leave our small towns?
It is hard to compose these questions and emotions into coherent paragraphs.
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