Everyone (or almost everyone) has heard the song or phrase, "A House Is Not A Home." It makes sense hearing it, but feeling it is so much more than that. A home is more than wooden beams, bricks, glass, insulation, sheet rock, flooring, and furniture. A home is memories, and if it's anything like mine, it is a part of the family. That's why leaving it is something I can't even fathom right now.

A few hours ago, I was told that my parents are going to buy a new house. I saw the house today, and I hated it. It was small, dated, stuffy, and I cannot sense any happiness following me there. Plus, the fact that I'd be moving away from my best friend since infancy makes it worse. Living next door to your best friend is not only convenient, but it is also comforting. Knowing that a shoulder to cry on or someone to tell the good news to is just 15 seconds away is more than I can describe.

I cannot leave this house. It built me. I learned to ride a bike out front. I've buried 3 pets in the back yard. I had adventures in the fort next to the swing set. I learned to play piano on the mahogany Yamaha in the living room. I learned guitar in the small back bedroom. (Yes, I know the parallels to the song "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert.) I did homework, studied for test, and prepared for my SAT at the kitchen table. I've made and decorated beautiful cakes in the kitchen. I've painted rooms, colored walls. I've played with my Barbies in nearly every room. I've woken up to the same views for 17 1/2 years. I've mowed the lawn more times than I even want to think about. I've played hide and seek with neighbor kids. I've never felt more comfortable anywhere else.

My mom doesn't understand. She keeps saying she does, but how can she? Her parents still live in the house that she grew up in. She gets to go back to the same house that built her. If we move, I will never get that back. I can never feel at home in a house other than this one.

The new house will simply be a building--a roof and some walls. If that's the case, I might as well move into an office complex or a warehouse because it will be the same thing to me.

I also know that moving right before or during my senior year would be a terrible idea. My grades would start to slip from lack of sleep due to homesickness. If my grades slip, I won't get into the colleges of my choice, and then my whole life would change and every hope I have for my future would dissipate.

All the while, I feel like I'm being selfish, thoughtless, and petty. I'm not moving to another state or even city. It's only 2 miles up the road, but I feel as if it might as well be to Canada, or why not just Romania! But eventually, my mom will have to move. She has MS and will not be able to live in a house where she has to constantly take stairs much longer. My dad says he's perfectly fine in this house, and I tell him that I'm more than fine here. The thought of moving is tearing me apart. I have never felt pain in so many places. I can't think straight. I can't even see straight. I don't think I've ever cried this much. My body will be out of all fluid by the time I'm done, or so it seems.

This home is part of me. Leaving it before I'm ready would destroy me. But the writing helps. We haven't moved yet and we don't even know when it's going to happen. I will beg and plead for my parents to wait until I go off to college, and if they do, they'll have even less stuff to shove into the new building. I guess I'm just afraid of such a big change. And this all happened too fast. I found out about their considering buying the house less than a week ago and all of a sudden, "We got it!" Not "we." "You." You got it. I'm never going to get it because I don't want it. There is only one home I want and it sits on Greenbriar Lane. This street, this yard, this house will be the only place I can call home until I have a home of my own and start my own life there. Even if I leave this house physically, I will never leave it emotionally. It will always be a part of me. And that's all there is to it. Simple, yet so complex.

1 comment:

  1. I think you're taking this whole thing too personally. This move isn't about what you want, but is what your parents feel is best for the family. Your continual complaining makes you seem ungrateful. For example, a member of the ND football team had a family member pass away today. While everyone was praying for him and his family, you were praying you wouldn't have to move. I think your priorities are off and you need to trust your family is doing what is best for all of you. Not just you.