I've been walking around the city differently lately. I never agreed with the old adage: "You don't know what you've got till it's gone". I've always believe that you know what you had, you just didn't appreciate it. Basically the same thing...
But not.
I've gone home about three times since I moved to New York. The longest I've stayed is 48 hours. It's surreal coming back. I always knew this time of my life was coming, it had to. I had to at some point move out and make it on my own. I had to know my sister would need to do the same. I had to know that I'd be going to weddings, watching friends move in together, and some have children together.
So why am I so shocked?
This is the twenty something experience. You look up and you've grown up.
Who the fuck asked for that?