Alllllllllll righty, dear ones. Here you go.
June 1st was when things officially began to change, though potential had been in the air for a while. That night Mom and Dad announced that Dad had an offer for a job that turned out to be more appealing than they had originally thought it would be. Their decision to refuse the offer if extended was suddenly less reasonable, and it was looking like we might move to ----. I was devastated at the idea. I had lived in ----- for 13 years, and in that precise town in ----- for 8 years. I made my dearest, closest friends in those 8 years, the friends I will keep forever. Moving away from them was the last thing I wanted to do.
Besides that, the next two days after June 1st our homeschool group performed The Sleeping Beauty (the play I have mentioned. It went over all right, ladies, thanks for all your encouragement and interest). I was stressed out about that.
Besides that, I was taking an online college English class this summer. And we were already taking a trip to the place to which we'd be moving! How on earth could I manage my English class with everything else going on??
June 6th, Mom and Dad decided we were not moving after all.
June 7th, my life officially changed.
I would say it started out as a normal day because that seems so typical of days that turn out to change your life, but this was not the case. I was awakened for breakfast as usual, and at breakfast my parents announced that they didn't feel good about the decision to stay, and it was officially up in the air--AGAIN (let me say, I have omitted several times a "final decision" or a "maybe final decision" was made; there were far to many). However, this time the "up in the air" was decidedly leaning towards moving. Mom was crying, Dad was serious.
That afternoon I met up with a dear friend I had made at school, because she happened to be in town when we were, which was delightful. She happened to be the one person I had told about the earliest possibilities of moving, as she was wholly unconnected with my family, and her family didn't know mine, and she didn't know other people we knew, so there was no worry of news spreading when there was no sure thing. Naturally she asked about the state of the decision at that point, mainly if one had been made, and I simply told her there was no final decision yet.
That night, my parents announced a final, final, unrelenting, irrevocable decision: our family was moving to ----.
I would say I burst into tears, as that is a typical reaction, but it wasn't quite like that. My throat started swelling and teats started seeping out; I have always been determined not to cry in front of my family. But it was no use attempting to hold it in, out the sobs came. And came. I thought of my dear friend previously mentioned, and sobbed. I thought of another very dear friend, who understands me like almost no one else, who calls me her best friend, and sobbed. I wept for, oh, I don't know how long. Then a few minutes later I thought of another dear friend, nay, sister, who has known me longer than almost anyone else, who calls me her sister--and I am the only one she calls that--and began sobbing again.
To be sure, you are likely not interested in such detail of my weeping. Therefore I will continue on to my following point--this decision was certainly real.
At that point in time preceding this last decision, I had made up my mind to be okay with any decision. Which was a good thing, because were it not for that all the decision-making would have been an emotional roller coaster. As it was, no decision made previously had had much effect on me, emotionally, mentally, whatever. It was just "okay, that's that" for whichever turn it took.
This time, however, it was most certainly real, and I could feel it in my soul, therefore the tears.
Well. It's taken me that long to talk about the decision; I think I'll do this in segments. Coming soon: From Decision To Move, also titled, The Worst Time Of My Life So Far