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Illustration for article titled Last Nights in My House

It’s my last weekend night in my parents’ house, my house since I was about 5. I’ve known no other home. It’s the address on my driver’s license and my passport. It’s the address on my credit cards. It’s the area code for the cell phone number I’ve had since I was 16 (a cool 15 years).


I can’t articulate how I feel. This house is my home base. It’s my comfort zone. I tried to explain to my mom that I’m now like a boat floating in the Pacific, reaching for her hand. That upset her, but it’s very true.

Have your parents moved from your homes? How has that made you feel?

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