It feels so strange not rocking back and forth as I walk, laying in bed at a 180 degree angle, and driving in a car rather than public transportation. It feels so strange being home after thirteen days away from it all. The same meals my mom always cooks taste better, my bed seems larger, and my closet seems excessive. I don't need all of these things, I only need three changes of clothing and I'm good, living from washing machine to washing machine. Everyone around me understands my odd sense of humor, no explanation necessary. It feels almost unnatural to be understood after the amount off weird faces I've received prior to telling another "your mom" joke or say something inappropriate. There are no longer 13 other people around me at all times, and there is no count off every time I exit a building. I feel safe, the threat of someone stealing my belongings while I sleep is no longer an issue. It's odd going from train life back to home life. Everything is normal again, as if I never even left. My mom couldn't stop hugging me when I got home, letting me know how much she missed me. I look forward to long talks in the future about parts of the trip I forgot, not a single detail will be left out, and no cute boy will go unspoken of. On the car ride home from Toledo, my mom was laughing about something that happened while I was gone, and as her cheerful laugh bounced off the car walls, I realized she was my favorite person in the world and that I was so happy have her back by my side.
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