I’ve always joked about moving, that I would be happy and that I wouldn’t mind it. But in light of recent events, now that I am moving, not that I’m not happy nor do I blame my parents, but it’s going to be hard leaving this house. 19 years spent in this house, all the memories, the parties, and I know I’m not supposed to be sentimental about material objects, but I’m gonna miss some of my things. My bed for one, the home theater, some of my toys which brings me back to my childhood days. I guess moving didn’t really hit me, until I saw some of our rooms, completely empty of furniture (cause we sold it) and that I would have to throw a lot of what I have away, cause there’s no way we have room to store it. I guess this is a start of a new beginning…