The last day of home is always the hardest. I hate packing, watching the time waiting to depart and mom asking if my keys, purse and nothing aren't left anywhere. Dad organizing my room and everything constantly checking if there were things I could bring back to me to college. The last meal I shared with them, the last hoom cooked meal I had in a while. I hate this. I hate this feeling where it feels forceful to leave home.
But then, life must go on. I'm gonna miss my mom and dad and bed and cats and wifi.
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