…if you think about them for too long.
My childhood home:
Thanksgiving dinner around the dining room table
Countless hours spent decorating, cleaning, and rearranging my bedroom
Writing for hours in my journal on my bed
The christmas songs my Grandma played while we decorated for the holidays
The storage I was often scared to go into under the basement stairs. One bulb to light it, turned on by pulling a string.
The smell of the candles and christmas decor coming out of the big brown boxes for the first time each year.
Girlfriends over to get ready for a night ahead
Girlfriends sleeping over after a magic night out
Roller skating with my girlfriends, excited to see the boys at the rink
Talking about boys and analyzing everything into the wee hours of the morning
Lunch with my girlfriends at school
The simplicity of growing up before social media,
and media overload in general
Young heartbreaks that make me smile years later rather than cry
My first car
The complete safety of being at home, before you embark on true experiences and growth, that you don't know how to appreciate until it's gone.
Being a child