Grown Up

Every so often it hits me. I'm a grown up. I am 21 years old, I am graduating from college, I am searching for a career, I am engaged and planning a wedding and I have been living on my own for almost 3 years. When the hell did I grow up? The other day, I don't remember how I thought of it, but I was thinking about how different things would be if I'd stayed living at home another year, or two. Mainly, I was thinking about how much money I'd have saved up from not having to pay as many bills as I do now. I can't imagine having stayed at home. I probably wouldn't have figured out as quickly that Bart and I wouldn't work out. I wouldn't have Nelson, though I'm not sure if having him is a blessing or not, as much of a pain as he can be, I still love him to pieces. Most of all, I'm not sure I'd be engaged to the most wonderful man I know. If I had stayed at home I probably would have continued to adopt my family's opinions as my own instead of thinking for myself and questioning things. It is kind of bittersweet, I think. Some days it feels just like yesterday that I moved out, but it'll be 3 years in just a few short months. But then at the same time, I have difficulty picturing how my room looked (although I do have pictures), or what my daily routines were. When my mom still lived there, I had showered there a few times for various reasons and the new shower that was put in very shortly before I moved out just seemed....weird. I didn't like it. My brother and sister-in-law live there now and it's even more foreign. Sometimes I find it hard to believe I lived there for so long at all. It's funny how dad's house seemed like home, mom's seemed like home, and now...none of those places are the same. I don't consider my brother's house home, I definitely don't consider my mom's house home because she's only been there a year so I haven't spent a ton of time there. Now, I have my own home, but it's not home if Tim isn't here. I've been spoiled much too long. I can't stand being home alone at night even with the dogs here, it's an awkward and uneasy feeling, and if it's windy and the house creaks wrong, I find myself staring at the door expecting to see a silhouette through the glass. What happened to the girl who lived on her own for 6+ months and had absolutely no problem with it? One of my theories, in addition to being spoiled and having Tim here, is too many horror movies! ha.