The feeling didn't go away.
Not the next day. Not the day after.
It just stayed there quietly, like something I couldn't shake off no matter how busy I tried to make myself.
Classes.
Dorm.
Scroll.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Even Chloe noticed something once.
"You've been super quiet lately," she said while packing her bag one morning. "Everything okay?"
I nodded too quickly.
"Yeah. Just tired."
She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push either. She just gave me that look people give when they decide not to pry.
Then she left again.
And I was alone.
Again.
By the end of that week, I stopped trying to pretend it was just tiredness.
It wasn't.
It was something heavier.
A quiet kind of loneliness that followed me everywhere, even when I was around people.
Especially when I was around people.
I started noticing it most at night.
When the dorm was quiet.
When Chloe wasn't around.
When my phone didn't light up for hours.
Ryan still sent reels sometimes.
Still unread.
Still sitting there like they belonged to someone else's life.
Ethan was still around campus too.
Still smiling.
Still talking to people easily like it came naturally to him.
And every time I saw him—even from a distance—that same strange sting would come back.
But this time, it didn't even confuse me anymore.
It just made me feel worse.
One evening, after sitting in my room for too long without doing anything productive, I finally reached a point where I couldn't stay there anymore.
The walls felt too close.
The silence felt too loud.
I grabbed my phone, my wallet, and my hoodie without really thinking and walked out of the dorm.
I didn't even have a destination at first.
I just kept walking until I ended up at the edge of campus, where the bus stop was.
My hands were shaking slightly—not from cold, but from something I didn't want to name.
Homesickness.
Or maybe just… exhaustion.
I bought a ticket without overthinking it.
And for the first time since coming to college, I went home.
The bus ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
I watched buildings blur past the window as the city slowly shifted into something more familiar.
Each mile away from campus made my chest feel a little lighter.
And heavier at the same time.
Because going home meant I was leaving.
But staying had started to feel like drowning in silence.
By the time I reached my neighborhood, the air already felt different.
Familiar.
Warm.
Real.
My mom opened the door before I even knocked properly.
"Mia?" she said immediately, surprised. "Why didn't you say you were coming?"
I tried to smile.
"I just… needed to come home."
She looked at my face for a second.
And then she didn't ask anything else.
She just pulled me inside.
That night, I stayed in my old room.
Everything was exactly the same, but I wasn't.
I sat on my bed staring at the familiar walls, listening to the quiet house sounds I used to take for granted.
It should have felt comforting.
And part of it did.
But there was still something missing.
Something I couldn't explain.
I unlocked my phone again.
Ryan had sent another reel.
Still unopened.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then locked the screen again.
And for the first time, I admitted it to myself in the quiet of my old room.
I wasn't just missing home.
I was also running away from something I didn't understand yet