Non-Fiction: Leaving Home

Much like the majority of people my age, the next step in life is university. Although it’s seven months away I can see the glistening doors to my screenwriting degree become more irredecent as the days roll on.

I didn’t believe everyone when they said the second year of college passes like a meteor. At the time I didn’t expect that to be so realistic. I feel as if I have been there half as much as I have and there is this intense stress like my world is coming to an end. So if you are in school, or beginning college or sixth form- I’m not going to lie to you. A2 is tragic.

But within my mental desk, consumed by post-it notes of essay due dates, photography visions and snippets of creative writing, there is what is most important to me right now.

Leaving home.

I’ve wanted to go to university since I was able to write my own name; yet the thought of living somewhere that isn’t with my family and friends is surreal and unlikeable.

Moving out isn’t easy for anyone or for any reason. The emotions that come with it are like quicksand. And although I’m not yet used to the idea of becoming isolated (at least for the first few months), I won’t let myself sink.

I keep thinking of the positives that have not quite outweighed the negatives but if I don’t, I won’t want to leave.

I remind myself that I’ll be the first member of my family to attend university. Within sleepless nights I list everything that I’ll gain from the experience. However, it’s currently not enough. The independence I need to be a fully formed adult, the ability to budget and learn how to do things completely unsupported; I know I’m ready but I don’t think I’ve quite realised that yet.

The reason behind all of these nerves? People.

It’s not that I’m scared of people. It’s quite the opposite. I’m a very sociable person. So how am I going to cope without socialising with my friends?

I don’t want to lose anyone.

It’s not just missing them. It’s the fear of replacement, the worry of lost connections.

I’ve known my friendship group for years now. We have followed each other from primary school, to secondary school, to college despite to range of choices. It may seem like an exaggeration but take into consideration there are just under fifteen of us. We mean everything to each other. And for the first time in our life we will be over a mile from each other.

“I wonder who we won’t see again…” I said to my sister yesterday. There wasn’t an answer. I guessed it was because she didn’t want to think about being so alone too.

I think she’s going to be the person I’ll miss most. She’s less than a year younger than me yet I still see her as a child I want to protect. I adore her. Within her persona of thriving in the idea of being the family disappointment, she knows she will never be unloved. We shared a room until only a year ago we share our friends, clothes, treats and days out. We have practically shared a life. But soon enough I won’t see her for weeks on end.

No one knows how that feels. No one.

I will grieve. Like the loss of a loved one. Because I love them. And I will lose them.

Whether I’m home or not they will still be at university doing what they want to do. And they deserve it. So I’ll go. I’ll have my few weeks of depression but I’ll come out, having lived the best years of my life.

A good end is always worth a bad beginning.


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