My family and I were never close, ever since the beginning of high school; all I’ve ever wanted to do was to leave. The day after graduation I was off to Barcelona where I’ve always wanted to be. Barcelona was my home time and I couldn’t have been happier when my family and I were living there. We had no problems, it was normal. My Dad had to get a new job though, that’s when everything changed. We moved to Ontario, Canada and I hated it more than anything. I didn’t fit in with the people or their interests, no one cared to make me feel included. The day of graduation was the only day that I felt truly important to my family. Graduation was the first time that my parents approached me of moving to Barcelona. They knew I bought my plane ticket and that I found an apartment with two other roommates and they never once tried to talk to me out of it or convince me to stay, that’s what made me want to go more and more. On graduation my parents tried bribing me with everything they could think of to get me to stay home. I don’t think they did or could understand the way they made feel, we are just two different kinds of people. The day I left for Barcelona was a lot harder than I ever imagined it’d be. Seeing my parents faces as I was walking around broke me because I could tell that they really didn’t want me to go but my mind was made up. As I approached my new apartment in Barcelona my roommates were really nice! I use to go to school with one of them. It was a decent size place, I really enjoyed it. I had my own room, it was one of the smaller rooms but it was perfect for me. I had a view out of the window that you could see more miles. During the day Id open my window up all the way and let the summer air breeze come in through my room. All my worries and conflicts seemed to disappear as I sat in my room. I felt happiness; I felt that this is what I had been waiting for. A big part of me wants to run home sometimes though, I know that I need to be strong and vend for myself. It’s hard, beyond hard, its life though.
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