your mom told you this would happen. 

she told you that these people would become 

your best friends

your confidantes

your family. 

you didn't believe her, 

but you should have. 

maybe you could have prepared for how much leaving would hurt. 

 

march is a sad month.

it is the last full month the six of you will have together. 

you spend it alternating between

joy 

and

devastation. 

 

joy because you love these people so goddamn much

that your heart swells when you see them

your mouth curls automatically into a smile

and you laugh and duck your head and tell silly stories in the kitchen. 

nights are spent piled on the couches

all six of you

and you steal each other's blankets

and snuggle sleepily together. 

 

you feel joy because they get it, 

they understand. 

when you're sad they make you tacos

and when you're happy they blast music

that you never thought you would like

but you like it when it's like this. 

you like it when they shout the lyrics

more than sing them

and you like that they are happy. 

 

you feel joy

 

you don't know how, 

but in the eight months that you've lived together

these people have become infinitely important. 

 

and you feel devastation

all the while.

because you know that summer is coming

to take them away and carry them

across the entirety of the continental United States

you will have phone calls 

and facebook chat sessions

and you will text and you will still love them

but it will not be the same. 

 

there will be no more midnight trips across campus

there will be no more sunday dinners

there will be no more sleepy movie nights. 

 

you are devastated and they aren't even gone yet. 

it is anticipatory grief

for the months (years) that you will spend apart. 

it is anticipatory grief and you don't know how to handle it.

 

except you do

because you've done this before

when you first came here. 

when you spent nights crying in the bathroom

so they wouldn't hear

because you missed your family so damn much.

you know exactly how to handle this 

because you are handling it

right now. 

you know that it will get better.

you know that it won't hurt like this forever.

you know that the first few months are the worst.

you know that the pain will fade. 

 

but it hasn't gotten to that point yet.

you aren't a couple months down the road

you are right now. 

you still have time.

 

you still have time to make sure that they know.

you need them to know

that they saved you

they made this whole mess of adulthood

worthwhile.

they made your days brighter

they made your nights easier.

 

it is going to hurt

you can be sure of that.

you are going to cry when you board the plane to go home

not because you are excited to see your family

but because you will miss them

it is going to hurt

so goddamn much.

 

this is the reality of loving people in more than one place:

you will never feel at home again

because home is not a place.

home is not a little house with a white picket fence 

and it is not the town you grew up in.

home is the people you love.

 

my home is scattered across the world.

my home is in Michigan.

my home is in Idaho.

my home is in Utah.

my home is in Colorado.

my home is in Arizona.

my home is in southern Mexico. 

 

this is the reality of loving people in more than one place:

you will never feel completely at home again.