By Olivia Sullivan
“Sit down, Olivia, I want to talk to you.” I hear my mom’s voice trying to be as gentle as possible. My mom had been divorced for about seven years, but she had a current boyfriend, Kevin, who got along with me well. I walked through the door and into the kitchen with the cold tile floor, my legs trembling with fear that I was in trouble. My mind was racing through what I had done in the past few days that could have gotten me in trouble. I sat down on the cushioned pillow on the hard wood chair without saying a word, waiting in suspense.
It all sounded fuzzy at first, not seeming like reality. Gladly, I wasn’t in trouble; my mom simply asked me what I thought about moving. This didn’t make me think that we might be moving at first. The next moment, Kevin came in to sit down. I was oblivious as to what would happen next. I had come to the decision that moving would be really neat because I wanted to experience being farther away from everything, and I would have a really cool, very big house.
I was asked then if I was okay with moving to Kevin’s house. I knew nothing about the house or where it was located, but I knew that I trusted him because my mom trusted him. As a result, I said that, yes, I would be okay with moving; I was even a little excited.
The next day, I got to go to the new house, but the drive there felt like forever. This sparked curiosity because I had no clue where we were going. I was starting to nod off due to a lack of sleep the night before. Then I started to feel the car slowly roll to a stop. We were here! I looked up at the house in astonishment. It was connected to other houses but still looked so much bigger than the little apartment that we lived in. Having skeptical thoughts—this was too good to be true—I wasn’t sure if I was seeing the right house. Fortunately, I was looking straight at the house that I could live in one day.
I slowly took my future life step by step while trying to take in everything that I was seeing. The only thought running through my mind was that I was for sure going to live here one day, in a house that towered what seems like stories and stories above my head. Overwhelmed by excitement, we walked inside the house, and from the inside, it was so much bigger than the outside. The front door slowly squeaked open, and I looked forward to see the kitchen, much bigger than the apartment’s. To my right was the living room, which was about the size of the first floor of the apartment itself.
I was now free to roam the house, and curiosity got the best of me. I ran into the small hall that was to the direct right of the kitchen to see an office with a desk bigger than my teacher’s! I was told that this could be my room if we moved the desk into the vacant room downstairs. I also had the choice of taking the vacant room downstairs, but I wanted to be on the same floor of all the activity. It was obvious that I was very excited, but I was told to sleep on the decision of whether I wanted to move or not and give it some thought. I knew that I had already made my decision and didn’t need to think about it.
Then, my fun was hampered a little bit because I was asked to sit down again. I sat down on the red, velvety suede couch, playing with the soft yet rough texture of it. “What do you think about this house? Would you be okay with moving here?” My mom inched into the idea of telling me we were probably going to move into this house. I didn’t reply with anything, for I was speechless. I still had a huge grin on my face, though, and was drawing in the texture of the couch. My mom finally chuckled and stated, “Well, I think she’s okay with it; all you have to give her is a nice red suede couch.”
The next day, I was asked about my decision. I quickly responded with a huge, “Yes!” And not an hour later, I was putting my room into boxes. I enthusiastically packed up my room, labeled the boxes, and packed by the end of the day. It made me a little sad to see the room that I had spent years in all boxed up and empty: It now had a certain echo to it.
By the next day, we were getting the moving truck. I got to Kevin’s house to see the used-to-be office now empty except for one piece of furniture—my bed. I was so happy, for I now had a huge room that I could dance and prance around in. I could invite friends over and have sleepovers because I had the space; the possibilities were endless! I had my room boxes unpacked within the day. My mom was impressed with how enthusiastic I was about this, for she thought I would have had the opposite reaction and wanted to stay in Mariemont.
About three weeks passed, and it hit me. I felt a sense of isolation and sadness. I had been too far away from my friends for too long, but it was already done: I moved. My friends were sad as I moved, but I had disregarded their opinions because I was too excited. I had made my decision in a split second and forgotten to think about other impacts that it could have on my life. I have still to accept the fact that I am a distance from friends. I have tried, and I have accepted it but only halfway because I’m still with my family. I will probably never fully accept the fact, but I have a roof over my head and have a great family. I will just take my time to think about my decisions the next time a big idea comes up.