There is nothing harder than leaving the ones you love. Sure, someone dying is sad too, but knowing that they are still there and you can't see them or hear them is harder. Especially when it's a parent.
You see, I lived the perfect life. Literally. I got great grades, played every sport, was considered cool in school, had a dog, cat, little sister, yadda, yadda, yadda. Then my parents said they were getting a divorce. I felt like my entire world fell apart. My grades did not slip, I was still in sports, I was still considered cool, but I felt like I had a hole in my heart.
It was so hard having to leave my two-story house for a two-bedroom apartment with my sister and my mother. It was even harder to pack up makeup, clothes, and everything else to go to my dad's house every other weekend. I used those reasons as my excuses to be mad. I remember saying "This sucks, I hate having to pack up all my crap," when I was really thinking, "Why can't my parents get back together?" I regret throwing hissy fits over stupid things like not being able to stay home on the weekends I wanted to, and complaining about how everything that sucked about this divorce was my parents' fault when deep down I knew that it was the judge who picked this schedule.
As if all of this didn't make me mad enough, my mom announced that my mom, my sister, and me would be moving to another state, because my grandparents live out there. I had already moved five times in my life (six times if you count moving from the two-story to the apartment), but it was different then. I was a little kid, just happy to be where my parents were. Where BOTH of them were. This time it would be very different. I would leave my dog and all of my friends that I was close to. The friends that knew EVERYTHING about me. But my mother and father kept smiles on their faces and moved us out anyway.
Moving out here is something that I would never want to experience again. Most people would love to drive across the country and see all the plains, mountains, and rivers, but not me. I got sick of the hotels and fast food restaurants very quickly. And when we finally got there it was hotter than hell. The summer was very lonely and I had no friends to hang out with.
School started in August and the first week was horrible! I went to the wrong lunch hour. I felt really strange in a new school (apparently my new home is way ahead of my old one in terms of fashion). But as the weeks wore on, I began to meet some new friends. I even met some guys that I liked (also note that guys with tans are much hotter than guys without tans!). I started playing volleyball and met a ton of people. People on the team knew other people, who eventually got to know me.
I've been living in Arizona for about 6 months now. I've forgiven my parents for the pain that they caused me due to their breakup, because I know it hurt them even more than it hurt me. It was kind of like bad medicine that you've got to take because you know it will make everything better in the end.