I was only seventeen when I moved to college. I have since turned eighteen and nineteen and now I am a “real person,” despite very little changing in my day to day life. I suppose I am quivering on the cusp of adulthood. I buy my own clothes and wash them on my own time with my own quarters and my own detergent. But when break starts and I go home, that home is still my parents’ house. So technically speaking, I am not living on my own. I am in the state of a slightly premature quarter-life limbo where neither I, nor my parents, know exactly where I stand as a self-declared “real person.”
