Candy Feels
From Our Readers: When a College Girl Misses Her Home
I miss the place I call home.
PHOTO Tribeca Film ART Naomi Torrecampo

I miss my room. I know it sounds silly, but it's true. I really, really miss my room.

Before I was so ecstatic to move out of our house. I wanted to be independent. I wanted to have a fresh start on my life, and most of all, I could do everything I want—no one could tell me what to do. Though the months were long before I moved out and moved in to my dorm, I already imagined myself living the exciting dorm life just like what they show on movies and TV shows. I was also thrilled about the freedom I was about to experience.

But the moment I stepped foot in my dorm, I instantly wanted to run back home. A few weeks before moving in, I felt a queasy feeling in my stomach while packing and preparing. I ignored it but as the days passed by and got nearer to my moving day, I got very sentimental about leaving the place I call home. My new home is foreign to me and before I knew it, I was already longing for the comforts of my home—my family, our pet, our living room, our garden, and my room.

My room holds a special place in my heart. It's where I do everything and nothing at the same time. It's where I can be myself, where I get privacy, where I spend hundred of hours binge watching. It's where I do art, where I store all my collections. It's where I meditate, where I can be alone and just contemplate on life, where I cry when nothing goes right for me.

My room is my happy place. It is my sanctuary.

"Be careful what you wish for," they say. I guess that's true. I got what I wanted, a new place and environment for me to start over. But how can I start over or begin a new life when my mind is at home? I can't focus on my studies because I'm still adjusting to the new education system which is far from the usual system I got used to. The faces of my classmates are still new to me that it makes me miss my friends even more. I am overwhelmed by everything that my mind feels like it's about to explode.

I asked myself, what do I normally after a long and tough day? Easy. Lock myself in my room and forget about the world for a little while. Blast out some music or maybe do therapy through art and wait until I'm fine again; wait for the burden on my chest to disappear. Once I settle down, I get back to work.

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I can't do that anymore because I don't want to disturb my roommate or make her fuss and worry over me just because I'm having anxiety attacks and I'm crying. We're friends but we still have differences. It might just be a silly little thing for her but for me it's not.

Right now, I have to get used to what I have and just be thankful for what I have. I'm still in a state of culture shock. I'm still getting used to the university I got into. I have to survive somehow. I don't want to let people down. They're expecting so much from me.

It hurts whenever I remember that after classes, I won't be returning to the comforts of my home. I'm going to a place I'm still getting used to. Time is all I need to adjust so that someday, I can finally call my dorm and university "home". But right now, I'm still adjusting to a whole new chapter in my life. It just hurts to think that tonight, I won't be able to let all the tears and pain out in my usual crying chamber.

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