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It's always strange when I come home after a while, during breaks. Things seem different from what I remember. Everything seems a bit more run down. The paint seems to be a bit more dull, and the switches seem a bit dirtier. There are new bits and bobs here and there that I don't seem to recognize. There are cracks on the wall in places where there were none before. My parents seem a bit more tired; their age seems to be slowly catching up to them. It's this weird sort of sinking feeling. But funnily enough, everything goes away the moment I start talking. There's always this moment for me; I'll be there in the kitchen with my parents telling stories and mainly just joking around. At that moment I think, "Ah, I'm home now. No wonder everything seemed brighter in my head". Even though the changes get to me at times, I'm glad that I'm here.

Thank you for reading.

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