It felt strange to be so confident. I remember about 6 years ago, making the drive all by myself for the first time. I was moving into college. Milwaukee felt scary. Chicago scarier. Now, it felt like I had done it a million times before. There were no close calls. No anxious thoughts of where my exit was. It was just as familiar to me as going home.
When I got there it felt like home. Because I was with friends again. Not lonely in a house of family members who missed out on four years of some of the most fond memories I have, but friends who felt like family. Friends who treated me like family. Friends who had history that no one else would ever be able to understand. History of painful things. History of beautiful things. History of histories gone by that no one else in the world, even family, would know about.
It was going to be a wonderful weekend.