A Simple Truth

Counting down the minutes until the final box would make its way into the truck,

I silently prayed that this was all just a bad dream.

Of course I'd been here before, taping up boxes and nervously pacing the stairs.

But this time was different.

I couldn't stop the pounding in my chest or the drop in my stomach.

I could hear my mom making her final cleaning rounds and it suddenly hit me.

I tried to keep it together, but I let my back slide down the wall and my head hit my knees.

Sitting in my empty bedroom with tear-stained cheeks and a heavy heart, I asked,

"Will it be easy this time?"

My question echoed through the desolate hallway.

I got up and took one last look at the four walls I had taken comfort in those last two years.

As I closed the door,

I found my answer in the stillness.