I Am Coming To Terms With The

This Is Personal, She'd Said. Real. This Moment Was Too, Even If You Couldn't See It At First Glance. It Was Fake On The Outside, But So True Within. You Only Had To Look, Really Look To Tell.

You Know The Minute You Stop Thinking About It, It'll Happen.

Home Wasn't A Set House, Or A Single Town On A Map. It Was Wherever The People Who Loved You Were, Whenever You Were Together. Not A Place, But A Moment, And Then Another, Building On Each Other Like Bricks To Create A Solid Shelter That You Take With You For Your Entire Life, Wherever You May Go.

But For Now, I Just Sat There On The Bed And Listened To My Song. The One That Had Been Written For Me By A Man Who Knew Me Not At All, Now Sung By The One Who Knew Me Best.

She Was So Emotional, On The Verge Of Tears. This Was What I'd Wanted To Prevent With All Those Quick Disappearances, The Tangledness Of Farewells And All The Baggage They Brought With Them. But Now, Looking At Deb, I Realized What Else I'd Given Up: Knowing For Sure That Someone Was Going To Miss Me. What Happened To Goodbye, Michael In Westcott Had Written On My Ume.com Page. I Was Pretty Sure I Knew, Now. It Had Been Packed Away In A Box Of Its Own, Trying To Be Forgotten, Until I Really Needed It. Until Now.