Any Place I Hang My Hat

So I had a party last night.

This is nothing unusual for me, I generally have a couple parties a year. My parents house has an amazing party space, with a huge TV and a bar that my dad built. Every year for probably the last six years, I've held a gathering of friends for my birthday and for New Year's Eve. This year was slightly different...

My dad got a new job in another state, so my parents will be moving sometime in the next few months. I head back up to school next week, and once I leave, I'll never be coming back to this house again. This was the last party I will ever have here at this house... It's kind of a scary thought..

Overall, it went pretty well. My parties are all basically the same, and are always pretty fun. This one wasn't much different, despite my desire to make it something more. I really can't complain though.

I don't really know what I'm saying. I'm talking about my last party here, but I can't help but feel like it's completely irrelevant. Why would you care if I had a party, or how it went? You don't. But I'm caught up on talking about it. I know it's not really important, but I feel as if some aspect of it is, which is why I feel the need to talk about it...


I'm moving.

Well, not me specifically, and not right away. I'll still be living at college. But this house that I'm in now has been my home for 14 years, more than half of my life... and when I leave next week, I won't be able to call it home anymore... This won't be the place that I return to on breaks, that I can hold parties in. I was just starting to reach the point where home felt less like Home than up at school... and suddenly it can't be anymore...

as I'm typing this, it is really hitting me for the first time what is happening. This is the place I grew up in. This is the place that I knew that if all else failed, if I needed to, I could come home to. This was my permanent address, this is where my pets are buried. This is where my friends are, the place that tied me to them... And we're leaving it. I know I will always call this town, this house, my home, but soon it won't be the place I hang my hat. Even though it's just "my parents' house," it still was my home...

It's not even me that moving, anyway. It's my parents. I've even reached the point in my life where I should be getting my own place, wherever I get a job. I might even move farther than them, to follow a career. It's just the place I come home to on the holidays that's changing..... but still.

I know it's just another chapter of my life, and still an early one at that. I know it's a new beginning, and a great opportunity for my dad. I know you can't expect to stay in one place forever. I was going to say in here how it bothers me how indifferent I was about it. I had no strong feelings one way or another about moving. The sadness of leaving this home seemed balanced at the excitement of having a new one, and I didn't seem to care one way or another. I never seem to care one way or another. I was going to say in here how I thought it should bother me, but it didn't. How I hate how I never seem to care about things...

But as I typed, I realized.




I'm terrified.