You can never go home again.

I'm sure you have heard this phrase before... "You can never go home again." I always personally thought that I knew what it meant, but as it turns out, up until last week- I really didn't.

After 4 months of living out in the "real world" and away from the home I was born and raised in, I finally went back to visit. Just the idea that I now have to go home to visit is still such a strange concept to wrap my head around. Now, I was obviously overwhelmed with excitement to be reunited with my friends, family and, of course, my puppies. But, I was also anticipating the weirdness that was sure to go along with it. I knew that it wouldn't be the same, especially without my handsome future hubby there with me.

What I didn't anticipate, however, was how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to him; even if only for a week. When I was getting out of the car at the departures terminal of the airport and receiving one final hug and kiss, I couldn't even attempt to stop the overflow of heart-wrenching tears that ensued. Yes, it was only going to be 7 days and 7 nights apart. I told myself this (not to mention how embarrassingly pathetic I was behaving) repeatedly. Although, in this moment (and many to follow), I simply didn't care. We had been through so much together in the those short 4 months that being apart would mean I would have to basically spend the next week feeling like I was missing a limb.

In addition, I've always hated flying. Especially by myself. I spent the entire flight trying to force away my anxiety with my mind; going in and out of feeling sad to have parted with my other half, followed by feeling overjoyed to get to see my mom in less than 6 hours. Talk about an emotional roller coaster.

My mom picked me up from the airport with both of my furry little Shih-Tzus awaiting me in the front seat. While they were excited to see me, they didn't try to hide the fact that were also a little pissed at me- the bitch who left them. Understandable, but nonetheless somewhat heartbreaking. When your dog, the one who has always jumped up and down at the sight of you instead is giving you the side-eye, you'll know what I mean.

The moment we pulled into my drive and I stepped foot into the last place I called home before I decided to "become an adult" or whatever, my heart sank to my stomach. It looked so much smaller. My mom told me to, "Hold on! Wait here!" before walking into my old room. After waiting a few seconds, she told me to come in and then shouted, "Ta-da!"

She had completely redone my old room. New paint, new bedspread, new art on the walls, candles everywhere, and the furniture completely rearranged. It was beautiful, I actually couldn't help but wonder why I had never done it that way myself, but it also made me a little sad. It wasn't really my room anymore.

I was afraid that my first night away from Jason would be tough, but after celebratory champagne and In N Out with my mom and my best friend (also considering the fact that it was about 4 AM East Coast time), I fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The days that followed went by in a blur. I expected that to happen though, for it go by far too quickly. I spent time with my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my baby cousin, my dad, my friends, and mostly my mom. I got to do my favorite "California things" like go to Newport Beach, go to an Angel's game, drive up to the mountains, go shopping, lay by the pool, eat Mexican food, and so on... While I was busy with all of those activities, I was also blessed with plenty of downtime as well. Time to just sit and talk for hours on end with the people I'm closest to. I learned how healing and grounding it is to be able to let your guard down and just be close to those who matter most to you. I never realized how grateful I am for such a crazy and close family until I had to live without them.

My last night home, before I had to wake up at 3 AM to go back to the airport, hit me like a ton of bricks. One minute I was sitting in my kitchen, drinking wine, laughing at something silly with my best friend and my mom, and the very next I was openly sobbing into my wine glass. My dog, Honey Bunny, crawled into my lap and stayed there, kissing my tears away, for over an hour.

Moving away from everyone and everything you've ever known is not at all for the faint of heart. It does, however, make you appreciate your loved ones more than you thought possible. It allows you to feel small (in a good way) because maybe for the first time in your life you understand how big this world really is. And while leaving home the second time was surprisingly harder than the first, simply knowing that when my big adventure is over, I'll have a home to go back to... Well, that just makes it all the more worthwhile.

Oh and my new fiancé picking me up from the airport with a dozen pink roses didn't really suck either.