A Weekend Home

Originally posted March 10, 2025

Hiii, happy Monday 🙂

I didn’t write or post anything yesterday because I packed a backpack, emptied my work locker, cleaned my apartment, and drove home. I left my laptop and my ipad on my bed and made my way with two rounds of Speak Now (the original version- physical media is superior).

I managed to get a weekend off, and I’d heard that my family and our softball team would be having a scrimmage game on Sunday, so I told my parents I would come down Saturday night and asked them to keep it a secret. I surprised them and everyone when I drove back early and showed up to my grandfather’s birthday party.

I’d seen my parents a couple times since I moved, but all my tias, tios, and cousins were excited to see me walking up the carport. I have to admit, it made me feel really, really, happy. The past couple weeks have been a lot of ups but a few very down downs the past couple days, and sitting around a table with my favorite guys laughing and catching up made up for everything I’d felt on the drive home.

I thought the drive would be easy. I’d done it only once before, a couple years ago, on a girls trip to Disney for a day. I went on that trip with my sister and our closest friend. This time, our closest friend, while still near and dear, isn’t as close to us anymore. This time, my sister and I aren’t seeing much of each other. Or talking much to each other. Or being much involved with each other at all. I’ve known my sister for 15 years, we’re not related, but we grew up together, and she’s been my best friend longer than my memory allows me to recall. It seems as though our sisterhood was unsealed on the drive back to my hometown- of all days and times for such a shift to happen. That made the ride increasingly, increasingly, increasingly difficult, until I was in the bathroom of the closest McDonalds with my head in a toilet.

It was all I could think about. I was turning over in my head over and over, not really in my body, moving on auto-pilot. Until I rang the doorbell of the house I lived in all of my teenage years, and my mom opened the door- and all of my problems went out the window. I played cards with my tias, made my nephew giggle, and watched movies with my godsister. I played softball with my family, surprised my grandmother for lunch, ate my favorite pizza, got my hair done by my godmother, hung out with my dog and my cat, went grocery shopping with my parents, slept in my old bed.

When it seems like the walls are crashing down on you, you can always go home. Those walls will always be there, ready to lift you back up.

With love, Willianny