I exhaled a sigh of exasperation as I gazed up at the manor that stood before me, entirely unamused by its grandeur and seemingly dark personality. This…this atrocity that I was staring at would serve as my new "home", where I would likely live out the remainder of my college career. That is, unless we had to relocate. Again.

Yes, I was in my sophomore year of college, and yes I still resided with my parents, but the prices of out of state tuition made it impossible for me to even consider living independently. After all, it wasn't as if I had any friends that I could even temporarily room with. As soon as I would start to develop any sort of social life, all shreds of hope I had for permanence and stability vanished within a couple weeks when my parents would announce yet another cross country move with the classic phrase, "I'm being promoted".

Dad had started out as an IT Tech for a computer company when he was merely a teenager. It was supposed to be a short-lived affair, a part-time job to get him through college and support himself and my mother in their first apartment together. But according to his supervisor, even at such a young age (I believe he was 18 at the time), he exhibited an exceptional range of skills. It was because of this that the company quickly promoted him, which had been a trend every few years since then. This company has had his loyalty for a grand total of twenty-two years, so a little bit longer than the number of years that I have been alive (I made a bit of an unexpected appearance when my mother had turned 20).

Now don't get me wrong: my father was probably the hardest working man I've ever met, and I know that he would immediately drop everything for my mother and I on a dime, but that didn't necessarily mean that it was easy for me to cope with moving every three to five years since I was born. I knew dad was great at what he did and he made a lot of people happy on top of making a lot of money for our family, but sometimes I was convinced that he didn't actually realize how tough this was on mom and I. I'm not suggesting that it was never tough for him, but at least he had purpose in picking up and going somewhere new; even though mom would never say a word to him, I could tell by her shaky congratulations and the tired, gloomy look in her eyes that she was as weary of it as I was. Every time, we were both forced to completely reestablish ourselves from the ground up. For me it was a new school, and for mom it was new neighbors and a new job.

I didn't realize when I was younger, but growing up without any real friends took a toll on me when I got older; it made me long for knowledge of what I was missing out on. In elementary and middle school when the girls in my class would talk about sleepovers and playdates, I would often feel depressed that I would never get invited to social events (as social as you could be at 11 years old, anyways). I mostly just imagined the sort of girly things that I thought prepubescent females would enjoy like makeup, boys, fashion, and the like. I never really was a "girly girl", but I still fantasized about it just so that I could envision myself having friends and a steady place to call home. But back then, I was the "new girl", an outcast and a freak for no reason other than that I was different. Hopping between schools as often as I had to back then was grounds for social exile.

When I hit high school, those sleepovers turned into parties. Being considered one of the "hot girls" at my high school scored me a lot of invites, but I always turned them down; being surrounded by drunken strangers who were just trying to bang wasn't exactly my idea of fun. Now maybe if I had good friends to accompany me, I might have gone to a few just to see what they were like. But because I didn't, I wasn't going to risk attending what was essentially a frat-house style orgy only to end up all over social media the very next day when some asshole decided to take a picture or video of me when I was half naked or blackout drunk…or both.

Then, I got to college. I had been in the town of my high school for three years, and I thought my entire world was going to change. I graduated there; I was starting out in the fall semester as a freshman at the state university studying biological sciences. I was doing exceptionally well in my classes, and I had even met someone in my general chemistry course that I found I had real…well, chemistry with. For the first time in my life, I felt I found someone outside of my family that I could trust, someone with whom I had a genuine emotional connection. The more time I spent with Michael, the more I realized that I wanted to be with him. Of course I was frightened by the thought of intimacy and devoting myself to a single human being, but I pushed that fear aside, and decided to take a chance on having a relationship with him.

What we had felt like magic, like everything about us was natural and compatible. We had more things in common than I had ever believed we could (for example, our inherent love for the outdoors). As cheesy as it was, every time the thought of him crept into my mind, I found myself blushing uncontrollably and feeling the "butterfly" sensation in my stomach. I even brought him home to my parents for dinner one night so they could meet him. My dad was the kind of father that was all about finding any excuse not to like a guy because I was his little girl and I deserved better. But the way those two hit it off, even from day one, you would think that they were father and son; it was a natural sense of bonding right from the start. Dad laughed at all of of his jokes, and they could casually discuss anything from cars, to work, to technology (Michael was a bit of a tech geek himself). My parents could not have approved of him more, and I think it was even safe to say that they loved him. Everything was fantastic.

Naturally, however, it didn't stay that way.

About two months after the beginning of our journey together, dad had broken the news: we were moving. Again. As mentioned previously, there was no way I was able to live on my own with the price of out of state tuition. My only option then, was to pick up my life and start it anew, this time 1500 miles away.

"But Anna, you don't have to leave. We could live together. We could be happy! Start a life, a family…you don't have to go. You're an adult, and there is nothing your parents could do to you if you decided to stay here with me." Michael essentially begged me.

"I'm sorry Michael. I love you, but I'm not ready to live with you. I know what we have is a truly beautiful thing, and it has so much potential to grow, but we've only been together for two months. In the grand scheme of things, we barely know each other." I bit my lip to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over onto my cheeks.

"Please Anna, don't do this, don't leave me here," he groveled, collapsing to his knees in desperation. Although I knew this was a bit dramatic, I couldn't help but feel like a monster.

"Goodbye, Michael," I said forlornly, kissing his forehead lovingly and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. I turned and walked away without looking at him. The pain I was feeling as I ended the only real relationship I had ever had was excruciating. I just left him there, on his knees, as he wept behind me. I never had any intention of breaking his heart, but I wasn't about to subject myself to something I knew I wasn't ready for. I was just going to have to pick up the pieces and move on, as I had always done. At the time, I couldn't have known that Michael did not have the capacity to do the same.

The next day, while I was packing up my belongings, my cell phone began to ring. I picked it up without looking at who was calling.

"Hello?" I answered. The voice at the other end sounded desperate.

"Anna?" said Michael, in a melancholy tone.

"What do you want Michael? I'm packing," I informed him, trying my best not to cry or be unnecessarily rude.

"I need to see you one more time before you leave."

"Please don't do this. We both know that that isn't a good idea. I'm sorry, but I won't change my mind. I'm leaving with my parents."

"I'm not going to try to change your mind. Please, all I ask is that you visit me one last time. I need to give you a proper goodbye. A real goodbye, not a peck on the forehead. I couldn't deal with this if I didn't get to see your beautiful face just one last time." It was becoming increasingly hard to maintain my dwindling sense of composure. After about two full minutes of silence, I sighed heavily.

"Okay Michael. I'll come over, but only for a few minutes, and only to say goodbye."

His tone became grateful. "Thank you Anna. I need this."

"You're welcome," I replied, quickly hanging up the phone afterwards. It wasn't that I was trying to be cruel to him; I just wanted to be reminded of him as little as humanly possible. I was still in love with him, and the last thing I wanted to do was leave him. But this was how it had to be, and how it always was.

I grabbed my car keys and my purse, and started to head out. "Where are you going Anna?" My father caught me as I opened the door to go out to my car.

"I was just going to say goodbye to Michael. I'll be back soon." There was a hint of guilt and sadness in his eyes.

"Okay, kiddo. Just tell him goodbye for me and your mom too, okay?"

"Can do dad."

"Anna?"

"Yeah?"

"Pumpkin, I'm sorry this has to happen again. I don't know why the damn company can't just promote me without shipping me all over the US. It's a little ridiculous, I know. But you're one tough cookie. I know this is always hard on you, even if you never say it out loud. Thank you for always being so understanding of the circumstances."

"I love you, dad."

"I love you too Anna Banana," he chuckled. "I'm sorry about Michael too. You know, I think he's a pretty swell kid. I know that you're an adult, and it's not too late to change your mind. You could stay here with him if you wanted. Your mom and I would understand."

"I know dad. I know that I have that choice, but I think the better choice would be for me to finish school before getting into anything serious. I love Michael, but I'm not ready for a step that big after only being with him for a couple of months."

Dad smiled. "That's my girl. You know for a twenty-year-old, you've got a pretty good head on your shoulders. You've always been smart. I'm proud of you, kiddo."

I grinned at him, attempting to mask my broken heart. "Thanks dad." I turned away and walked down the driveway to my car. I opened the door, climbed inside, threw my purse on the front seat, and started the car. I sat there for a moment while it idled, looking at my reflection in the mirror on my sun visor. I looked like I hadn't slept well in weeks; my eyelids looked puffy, the bags under my eyes were a deep purple, and my skin was pallid and patterned with once subtle wrinkles that were becoming slightly more noticeable. I really hadn't slept in weeks. Something had been telling me that another move was just on the horizon, and it kept me up at night. I don't know if I felt frightened or relieved that I had been right. I shut my sun visor, shifted the car into reverse, and backed out of the driveway. I threw the car into drive, and sped off in the direction of Michael's house.