You see, goodbyes are bittersweet for most, but I never liked that house while I was in it. The memories though, they stay. Like that first morning we moved when we all woke up on the floor of what became my bedroom to the sound of Chinese News blaring from across the street. I remember that the first food in the fridge of that house was Macaroni and Cheese from Safeway. The last food in it was Macaroni and Cheese from Safeway. I remember the first time I slipped and fell down the stairs I was not yet used to. I also remember the second time because it was immediately following the first. I remember bringing Brandy our new Beagle home in a crate that was at that time too big for her and over time became too small. I remember playing with her in the backyard and I remember setting up the basketball hoop on the small patch of concrete that was between the large house and tiny lawn. I remember filming videos making fun of all my teachers, and I remember taking them all down. I remember the first time I ever felt truly epic, playing Rock Band in my garage with the three best friends that anyone could have. I remember slipping out the backdoor with a hatchet and a bat to destroy said Rock Band set later that year. I remember all the laughter, all the tears, all the love, and all the times I came back from school in fifth grade crying to myself because I thought I would never fit in.
The house itself went through a lot too. Bryan kicked a hole in the drywall last year, me and my friend Connor took golf clubs to the garage door, I threw a basketball against the same side repeatedly everyday for a while because I was trying to master a certain trick shot. through 110 degree heat and that one time when it snowed, through fights and friends and foes and folly it stayed up and working and always the right temperature.
But I guess in the end, all homes are the same, its just where the heart is, and the memories too.
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