I look around my room and there is more I have to take away with me when I’m leaving.
And not just stuff… people too.
The people I am closest too, the people I love the most,
I’m leaving them.
I can smile and pretend things are going to be okay.
But I have no idea.
I can put on a face and pretend that things aren’t going to change.
But even with my big and bold imagination… I can’t lie to myself.
I can’t fake a smile nor pretend my heart isn’t breaking slightly.
I look around this house… the house where I grew up.
The house I call my own.
I’m leaving it… and will no longer again look at it the way I look at it now.
And truth be told, that scares the junk out of me.
I’m actually becoming an independent person. An adult.
A person who be faced with choices every day for the rest of her life.
I’m leaving, and I wonder…
What will become of me?
