I come home from school and pause before pulling up my car in the driveway. There's a sign swinging in the front yard. It wasn't there before. It says: "For Rent." Three real estate agents smile up at me from their little cardboard cubicles, white sunshine glare streaking out a portion of their faces.
I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. This is different from last week. Last week was Open House week, and even though there were complete strangers stalking these walls with a curious, hungry look of possession in their eyes, this was still my house. My room was my room. The visitors were simply guests I had deigned to allow to observe me in my natural habitat, sitting cross-legged at my computer, deaf to all but the music coming through my headphones. Now there is a foreign signpost in my yard - no, it's not really my yard, not anymore - and it finally hits me that in a few months, a few weeks, my room will no longer be my room and this house will no longer be my home.
My parents have been planning the move for over a year, but held off so I wouldn't have to drive an hour to get to school every day. By the time I leave for college, the new house should be ready. It brings a new sense of finality to the end of high school, almost like saying farewell to an old friend. What will it be like to come home for winter break and not recognize my own bed? Will there still be English AP books sprawled at the bedside table? Will there still be trinkets from friends, the stack of Arrow newspapers, the old viola in the closet? Photos, clothes, magazines, tangible traces of memory?
I doubt it. Memory is funny like that.
It's been a pretty good adolescence, all things considered. I love the friends I made and the lessons I learned, in and out of high school, and I can't wait to revisit this place from the fresh perspective of a snarky college kid. But there are some places I can't go back to. My home of ten years and my past won't exist in reality anymore, only in my memory; and memory fades.
So, thank you everyone who helped me get to where I am, and let's keep in touch. I'm going to face forward now.
