I hate you.
Well, okay, I don’t hate you.
But you’re a new place all the time, and I actually know in my head which bedroom is my favorite and which house and which backyard.
This bedroom is my favorite.
Kerens was my favorite house. Kerens was also my favorite backyard.
Kerens was the hardest. It wasn’t just a bedroom or a house or a backyard that was taken away. It was two people that I had come to love, and pets and a life that I thought was mine. There’s a family that has that life now. When we drove past I looked in the window and everything had changed.
But it’s not just moving. I move all the time, you get used to it. What I’m not used to is talking to him. Mom says we’re still figuring it out, we haven’t really known each other very long. A couple years, if you add up all the separate visits.
What I’m not used to is feeling like I can’t be myself, like I have to choose the right words every time. I count the times I mess up every day. I have a scoreboard in my head.
What I’m not used to is going down to visit him, but ending up being alone in my room all day. What I’m not used to is having no friends, nothing except my computer and my sketchbook.
What I’m not used to is this. This weird life with a fake second home. A home that always changes, but it never gets better.