Distance Diaries

Recently my parents have decided to go their separate ways and get a divorce. Not only do I understand completely, but I am very happy and excited for both of them. They finally have the chance to make themselves happy instead of make each other miserable. I am of the age now where my parents lives are no longer about me but about them. Every choice they make they finally get to make for themselves without the constant worry of their two children in the back of their minds. Of course when I think back I always feel slightly guilty that the main reason they stuck together as long as they did was for the benefit of my younger brother, Evan, and me. I always with they could have been made themselves happy at the moment they (we all) knew they should split. Now it is time for the change that effects all four (five including my dog) of us: moving out. Neither of my parents are keeping the house, which is the house I grew up in. We've lived here since I was 3 years old and Evan was 1. No we're 20 and 18, so basically this is the only home we've known. Every memory I can muster up seems to root back to this home, and tonight I had to take down picture frames and pictures and pieces of me and pack them into boxes. I had to look at dents in the walls I've covered with silly things and remember each one and then realize I had to say goodbye to each one and hand them off to someone new.  

I am going up north this weekend with a bunch of my co-workers. It will be a blast but I never thought that my room being stripped of clutter would be the fear in the back of my mind. I'm leaving my home and coming back to an empty shell. I slowly have to accept that this won't be my home anymore and it's scary.