Not really sure.

I'm not really sure how to write this blog post. I have so much that I could say about my freshman year at Brigham Young University.

But then, at the same time, I really have no idea what to say.

I could write about the adventures that come with living in the dorms (such as broken showers, beds that are four feet high, dance parties in the kitchen).

I could write about the struggle of living 2,000 miles away from home balanced by the joy of reconnecting with your family that you never really got to see much of before BYU life.

I could write about the spirit of the Y - both religious and academic.

I could write about the difficulty of the tests, especially Chem 105, and how they make me, still to this day, stay awake at night stressing.

I could write about the friends. I could go on forever about the friends. About how Heavenly Father loves each of us enough to care about little things such as roommates who will stay up late and laugh with you.

I could write about the ward. How cool it is to be surrounded by other youth who believe and live the same things you do and their testimonies that strengthen yours in ways you didn't even realize.

I could write about the studying. Long hours in a tiny cubicle on the 5th floor of the library or the late nights jamming to music with your new study buddy trying to pound out dimensional analysis and titrations.

I could write about any of those things and many others, I am sure, but I honestly do not think that I could capture with my plain words the feelings and emotions that I have about my freshman year. Every exciting, powerful word you can imagine - yeah, those - just throw them into one big sentence, with a tiny bit of homesickness and frustration and stress in there, and you will have my freshman year.

It was scary. It was fun. It was hard. It was exciting.
But now it's over and I can't believe it.

I learned a lot. Everything from Biology to the Book of Mormon, but most importantly, I learned a lot about myself.

I still cannot believe that I go to BYU. It feels foreign to say. "I go to Brigham Young University." It's something you hear young, freshly married couples say in their introductions during Sacrament meeting - not something you say yourself. But here I am, a SOPHOMORE at Brigham Young University.

I'm still waiting for it to hit me.

This year has zoomed past and I am so excited for the fall to continue my adventures at the Y.

Until then, I will keep missing Tingey 224 and the girls that lived in that tiny apartment. I will miss my roommate, Laura, and our never ending laughter. I will miss the 54th ward. I will miss the mountains and the huge Y that follows you everywhere you go. I will miss the Honor Code - everyone looks and sounds better when the Honor Code is around. I will miss the social scene. I will miss my FHE family. I will miss my Tingey Hall ladies and their willingness to talk whenever - even at 3 AM. I will miss the temple being so close and visible. I will miss Graham Canyon and the Creamery. I will miss the BYU community. I will even miss learning (just not the tests...).

It's good to be home, don't get me wrong, I love it! I just miss the Y. And that's a good combination. It means I love both places.

After all, I consider both places my home now.

Xoxo