I left. Removed from the reality that I had, without my permission. Taken away from everything I knew, the friends I had, the things I did. I felt, violated. The things I had loved from my whole life seemed to be thrown out the window, without my regard. A huge decision was put upon me, without talking to me about it. The first time it ever came up, seemed as if it was already decided. I felt small, left in an abyss of nothing. It seemed as though I would never have the life I loved, again. The life I had built, was being totally disconnected from me, and no one seemed to care. At first I was mad, it seemed as though my parents were making a very selfish decision. They only were seeing themselves in the future that they were creating, but unfortunately, I was just tagging along. They forget how transformative these years of my life are, and how much living in two different places will change me as a human. Even though there were things I asked for, like more time playing games, and even a trampoline, to be honest, none of that mattered. I just tried to believe that I could make this new place seem like it was going to be great, with these realistically meaningless things. I tried to hide what was really going on with materialistic things. I thought I could replace Denver with Maryland as a home, but in reality, I don't think that's possible. You can't replace what has always been on your heart, a place you loved. A step-mom can't replace your real mother. You can't replace a new friend with one you have known since you were a child. These are all things you wouldn't do, so there should be no difference with a place. It seems that there were people around me who were trying to do those same things, and truly, it hurt me, and I wish that on no-one. I know that my parents would never intend for that to happen, I just don't think they realized what they were truly doing. I felt like I was being purged of memories I adored from the place I once lived. I felt like that was being erased, 11 years, erased. It was unbelievably scary. It looked like they were trying to take joy away from me. There was a lot going on. So many different emotions, swirling up inside of me and spitting out a miserable wreck, but, no one knew that. I put on a facade so my parents wouldn't worry, they had, work and moving in. In hindsight, it was the wrong thing to do, if I was more up front about what I really felt, none of the awful discomfort that truly riddled my mind, would never have happened. As time went on, things gradually got better, I was feeling happier and less sad everyday. I started to realize that my parents were not only doing this for themselves. Of course they wanted to further their career, but they also truly believed that moving here would help us become closer as a family. My brother moved away for college, but to one in Colorado. We now only have to travel an hour to see him, while most families have to travel across country to see their brother, sister, or child. When we lived in Maryland, my parents had to commute an hour and a half to work everyday. I would see my parents far less than however much I do now. In Colorado, they have a 15 minute commute max, meaning I get to see and spend far more time with them. There were definitely adversity in moving halfway across the country, but in the end, I think it was the right decision for my parents to make.