“There’s no other way out of this. We’re moving, whether you like it or not.”

I shut the door on my brother, trying my best to distance the world from me, from which at the time seemed to fall apart. I couldn’t handle the soul-crushing reality of moving away from the place I grew up in. Maybe it was the fact that I established such a strong bond with many friends, and the thought of moving was like an earthquake shaking the roots of a firmly-grounded California Redwood tree. When my parents called after the first day of finals in eighth grade, I immediately started to cry. They called saying the house was bought. They indirectly said my opinion didn’t matter. However, they are right. What business does a soon-to-be ninth grader have with house moving? I didn’t realize that at the time. I was too busy with trying not to break apart into a million pieces, with the words of such a loving mother excavating the precious emotional jewels out of my fragile state.

“It’s okay, Meem. You’ll be fine! You’ll see all of them in a year!”

A year too long. ”What do you know about moving, mom? You don’t know my pain.”

Oh how wrong I was. My mother went on to relate her story, how she had to leave everyone behind. I loved my mother, and the story made me feel bad and guilty. How could I even come to compare my pain to hers? A child is indebted to its mother simply because of childbirth and its arduous nature, never mind the upbringing.

It wasn’t moving itself that was the problem. I was okay with a new house, and after seeing its relatively big housing and yardage, I was quite pleased with moving into it. I fretted over the middle school I would have attended.

“Dad, does it say which middle school I’ll go to?”

“No, Meem. It doesn’t matter. You don’t go to school for friends, you go to study. Study, get a good job, and start a family and-“

“But Dad, I…I can’t just leave my friends like that. I can’t survive without them.”

He shut me out, leaving me in my own mind, struggling to anchor the idea of moving. I couldn’t understand my dad’s stand of importance of friends. Why be alone? Friends are always good to have around, I thought to myself.

“I’ll miss you, Meem.” Rachel said, as she gave me a hug which I still can’t forget. I had a lot of hugs that day too, all with a great depth of meaning. I walked home that day. It was a walk of lonesomeness, like a seed that has been burrowed beneath the thick coating of concrete, and the seed is the only one of many others planted that struggles to make its place known.

I was told I was moving on such short notice. Otherwise, I would have devoted more of my time into living it up. But I had only so many memories that I was to keep with me, to uplift me from the prison of loneliness. This is another lesson in itself. Never take for granted that which helps you survive and that which helps you thrive.

It’s so lonely. I know people in this school. But where are they? The first day I had at my new school was the loneliest, wondering the halls, trying to understand the stupid floor system and engrave it into my mind. I spent my time, building friendships with people I never have met, in classes that I’ve never had, and I tried strengthening old ties with the friends to whom I have a bond with. I never forgot, and I never failed to let it put a damper on my day. But, the classes and classmates I had made the move worth it. Sixth period last year is probably the class that stood out the most. Right after lunch, with such an unusual science teacher, with the unusual amount of kids in the class, more than could be held, I came into this class with a smile, and I enjoyed it. Soon, I found something, whether it be hanging out with my best friends at lunch, or sitting down to a nice book, or maybe even just sleep, to look forward to for all of my classes. It occurred to me, about three quarters of the way into the school year, that maybe this move wasn’t a bad transition. My social skills went up. I was talking to people that I normally never would, I was doing things that made no sense but to my friends and I. It was the kids there who made spring track fun for me. It was the kids there who made every single day of May and June worth attending. It was the environment that molded me into the young adult I am today. My new school prepared me for the journey to the next big thing, the high school. I owe it all to my move.

“So, Meem, which school do you like more?” Suhyeok said.

“It’s hard to say, really. My old one had better people, I guess. But my new school has a better variety of people. I’ll say my new school because I hold it so dear to me. This school has certainly left its mark.” I replied.

Looking back at it now, I feel like a dumb kid, obsessing over moving away from people that I knew I’d see the next year. I realize, and I hope this realization hits you, the audience, that moving away from the people you love isn’t a bad thing. It is hard, and it does, for lack of a better term, suck. Things get better. Even if the people didn’t make my freshman year easier, there was always the idea that I would eventually see all my friends again. I made new friends though, and I regard those equals to the best of my companions. There is never a need to fret. Because it’s true you don’t know what you have until its gone, but it’s also true you won’t know what you’ll get until you get it.