You never know how much it takes to make a house a home until you have to go. You’ll never notice how that painting is supposed to hang on the wall near the kitchen, not in the center of this foreign box. Or how every cup, dog leash and reminiscent photo will remind you of what your life used to be. When I look at my face in the mirror I see the girl I used to be. The girl who had so many plans for the future and thought I would’ve made it so far by now, but I’m here. I try to tell myself that this is my journey and that this is a great new start. However, something feels wrong, like I’m not...