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All the worlds a changing season.
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Over the months, new scenery comes into view.
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First comes the worry, wondering if I will make friends in this new place.
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I am going.
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Questions fill my mind as boxes pill up with our belongings.
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I stare into empty rooms that look like hollow shells,
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Reminiscing on the joyful memories and moments created in this house.
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The moving truck arrives and I hear the squeaks and screeches of its wheels
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as it stops in front of my house.
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As the last of our belongings are being placed in the truck, I feel a few tear
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drops like tiny raindrops fall from my eyes as the realization sets in that
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this is truly goodbye.
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The torturous car ride from Florida to Illinois puts everyone on edge.
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Nerves and excitement are not a good combination.
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Finally, we arrive at this new place we will call home.
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Opening the front door for the first time is like opening a present on
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Christmas, I couldn’t wait to see what was inside.
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Days pass of lonely solitude, unpacking box after box.
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At school the initial nerves and loneliness of being the new kid pass as
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new friends come and go into my life like changing seasons.
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The line of what had been and what is becomes blurred and I learn
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to eventually call this new place home.
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Although the memories I once had never fade,
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new ones are created, but then once again,
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I am sat down and told the news; we need to do it all over again.
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Like a remote control stuck on rewind, here I am again;
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Home sweet home.