I wrote about it once....the place I called home.

When they ask where I'm from I say Provo, Utah -- but really, 

I'm from Timpview. 

....And unlike the rest of the students who get to go home on holidays and during summer break, 

I'm not sure that I ever get to go back home. 

I spent hours and hours of my life there. 

I fell in love there. I fought there. I kissed there. I held hands there. I slept there. I cried there.

 I watched movies there. I was a rebellious teenager and snuck out of there. 

I ate there. I smiled there. I laughed there. I had my family there. 

I even had a mini-fridge that I could use in the journalism lab there. 

But, now? 

Now I think I'm homeless. 

So Timpview, when do I get to come home? 

When do I get to walk the hallways, sit on the couch and talk, eat my microwaved dinners, laugh until I cry, get hugs from everyone who loves me, know every crevice and corner (cause I've been in them all).

Do I ever get to come home?

I'm homesick, and I miss you Timpview.