A/N: A few months back the ATL girls had a get together, and in walked mamadog93. I stood up and told a story...she was the closest to me, so I yanked her shirt open and peeked in to punctuate my story. I was so scared because she was new to us and I was worried that I scared her off. Well she showed up at the next get together and each one after that. Now, I am to the point that I can't imagine my life with out her. I owe this entire story to her, she came to me and told me that she wanted me to write this plot bunny for her. I am honored and I hope I have done you justice! I love long time mamadog93!

Playlist for Chapter 1: Rainy Days and Mondays-The Carpenter's; Don't Cry (Uncut Version)- Seal; Everything Changes- Staind; A Day To Be Alone- One Less Reason

Chapter 1~BellaLove, Death, Birth

You would think I'd be used to goodbyes by now; I've had a few in my life. But somehow or another, each one caught me as unprepared as the last.

The first goodbye came when I was less than three years old. Now, people debate what you can and can't remember at that age. To me, that matter wasn't up for debate at all. I remembered the day that my mom, Renee, packed up our stuff and we drove away from Forks. I could clearly see my dad, Charlie's, face as we drove out of the driveway.

He was nice about it; he didn't yell or scream at all. He sat down with my mom and they talked it out. She told him how unhappy she was. He told her he loved her and would do everything in his power to change that. She told him that he couldn't, it wasn't him; it was the small town that she was stuck in.

Charlie was a small town boy, he thrived there. His job as Chief of Police was everything to him, other than his family, of course. My mom was a big city girl; she wanted places to go, malls to shop at, and funky little craft places for her to do whatever hobby she had chosen that week. He would be just as miserable in the big city as she was in Forks. So, they agreed to part ways.

His tear stained face waved back at me as I twisted in my seat until I saw him and waved goodbye in return.

I certainly missed my dad when we arrived several days later in Phoenix, Arizona. Soon our schedule and normal way of life took over and I didn't miss him as much. Now, don't get me wrong I still talked to him all the time on the phone. He would call me every night. He even came to Phoenix several times to visit me, when I was too little to fly by myself. We went to the lake and fished; we saw movies together and enjoyed our time. Then he would get on a plane and fly back to Forks. My childhood attention span kept the hurt at bay with each of those small goodbyes.

The next goodbye was my Grandmother Marie, whom I was named after. She was actually my great grandmother, so I should be thankful that she lived to be almost ninety-two years old. She was my mom's grandmother. My mom's mother died in a car accident when my mom was thirteen, so my Grandmother Marie helped to raise my mom. She was a short little thing but boy, did she have piss and vinegar in her veins. You couldn't pull any shit on Grandma Marie. She knew better, she used to tell me she was psychic when I was little and I had no problem believing her. Somehow or another she just knew when you didn't tell the truth or when you held something back. Later in life, she told me that 'a person's eyes would always reveal the truth, always to watch their eyes'.

I was fifteen when she died. I cried for me but rejoiced for her. Her hard life was over and now she could enjoy that heavenly reward she always talked about. When she was alive I would tell her all my made up stories. After she died I would write stories in my journal for her then I would read them aloud to her, like I used to. I knew that I had always made her proud and would think of her each and every day till the day I joined her.

Funny thing is Grandma Marie's goodbye lead to my next goodbye. My mom's. At the cemetery where we buried Grandma Marie, there were two services that day. Grandma Marie's and a gentleman named Philip James Dywer. Mr. Dwyer's son, Phil, was a baseball player and had to catch a late flight to get there in time. He rushed straight from the airport to the cemetery. He ran up and stood beside my mom as Grandma Marie's service came to a conclusion. After it was all said and done and all the other's had left he apologized and introduced himself. Then he rushed over to the correct spot and was able to make the last few minutes of his own dad's funeral.

Mom explained that it was rude not to wait with him and provide him some comfort since he was so nice to us. So we stayed. Unfortunately, our limo from the funeral home left us. It had somewhere else to be, so we were stranded. Phil took pity on us and we shared a ride in his rental car back to our house. The whole time they talked and shared stories of his dad and my grandmother. By the time we reached our house, they had exchanged phone numbers and agreed to go out to dinner the next night.

Phil became as much of a staple in our house as he could, since he was a baseball player that traveled often. I liked Phil a lot; he was good for my mom. He settled her and she livened him. It was a true give and take between them. With Phil and my mom dating it was probably the closest I had ever come to normal in my life. Well, for my home life that was.

See with my mom a leftover hippie, I did all the housework, I cooked, I paid the bills, all of the things that a mom normally did. Well, I did those. She worked as a kindergarten teacher and flitted from hobby to hobby. Now, don't get me wrong, she was a great mother, she just sucked when it came to the household and the way it ran. Phil changed a lot of that, he was a bachelor and had to handle most of his own financial and household stuff. So, he took on a few things and allowed me more time to be a teenager, which equated to more time to brood, listen to music and study in my bedroom. You know normal teenaged stuff.

I had friends and was involved in school, but not to the point where it took over my life. I sort of liked it that way, the solitary life was good. I was happy with a good book or my journal. I didn't like to be hovered over and mom was okay with that. She and Phil were into their own things and so was I.

How does all that bring us to the point of another goodbye? Well, Phil got traded, so that put him on the road a lot more. Instead of being able to relax at home during his home games, now he had to travel to those as well. This took him away from my mom a lot more. So they sat down with me and asked me how I would feel if they traveled more together. They gave me the two options. Since I could drive and they trusted me, I had the choice to stay home alone, or I could move to Forks with my dad. To any normal teenager, the home alone option sounded like a great idea, but to me that was too much alone time. I could see how easily I could easily crawl inside myself and never want to be with people again.

So I chose to move back to Forks with my dad. He worked a rotating shift so I got the alone time I liked but spent enough time with him that I didn't become a hermit. My mom got to travel with Phil and everyone was happy.

These weren't even the major goodbyes in my life. These goodbyes I could understand. My dad had no other choice, he couldn't raise me alone. My Grandma Marie couldn't force her body to go on any longer at her age. And my mom deserved her happiness with Phil. Those were the small goodbyes.

I can say with certainty that at almost seventeen years old I was tired of goodbyes.

E/N: I will post on Tuesdays each week and the chapters will all be about this size. I might add another chapter per week later, we will have to see how my RL goes. As always I would love to hear what you think about things!

Till next time...