My Love Letter

It had finally arrived. Moving day. I was finally leaving my home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania after five short years and a sort of gloom lingered in the air. Although many teenagers would be excited to reunite with their family, friends, and childhood home, I, however, was frightened of the future. I woke up that morning and just laid there and listened to the sound of the rain pittering against the roof and windows, pattering against the surrounding forest in which I shared many memories. After what felt like centuries of just listening and reflecting, I got up and looked out the window. I looked at my neighbor's house across the field of grass which separated our houses and at the kids who had become like my siblings. I looked at the ice

I didn’t want to have to leave my friends in Nashville and be forced to make new ones in Atlanta. I didn’t want to get used to another new house or another city. I just wanted to stay in the only place I could call home. As the day of my departure approached, I thought of running away, so I wouldn’t have to move and my dad could keep his job in Atlanta. Thankfully, I never went through with it. When the day finally arrived, I was everything but ready. My mom had picked my brother up from school early to help move boxes out of the house and into our car while the movers haled broken down beds, and other pieces of furniture into their industrial moving trucks. Once everything was packed into trucks, paper work was finished and dogs were loaded in the car, we began the long 4-hour trip to Atlanta as dusk made its way to the sky. The trip itself was a calm one, we managed to avoid any major accidents on the highway, and we were traveling around 8 o’clock so the traffic had died down. As we drove I couldn’t help but think back to the friends I left and what was to come

The weather cleared up and me, along with my entire class and teachers, got to enjoy a beautiful ceremony. Lining up we started to proceed out to the football stadium from the gymnasium, my mind would not stop thinking. I just could not stop remembering what it took for me to get to this day. The stress that I endured studying for the SAT, filling out my applications and most importantly, perfecting my essay. The idea that I was not going to be living in this beautiful town I have spent my life in, brought a flood of emotions. Thoughts of my friends not being by my side next year made me feel as if I was sinking into a deep hole; this place, this town has had so much to offer to me. The past two years that I had spent in this place were the most emotional and exciting times of my life. I knew even though I was not going to be waking up in my familiar place anymore, I would be waking up in what was to become my new familiar place. I knew that even though my friends would not physically be there with me every day, that they would be there when I called them. If it were not for all of the people I have met along the way, I do not think I would have ended up where I am today. It just is a common thought for whenever I get sad about everything ending, I remind myself that there is a new beginning coming and it is going to be amazing. The place that I have spent my whole life

I never knew this would be my last day here… in Chicago. I hate my dad’s job, this is why I'm moving. Moving cities every year is hard and I hate it. My parents don't seem to bother all that much, they do it mostly for the money. As all these thoughts ran through my head, time went by and I finally arrived at my new house. As I out, all I could feel was the cold wind hitting my face and leafs attacking my fresh new j’s. Looking ahead of my was the fourth and certainly not the last house of mine.

“Home is where the heart is.”-Lady antebellum. Canada is my home, and I love it here. Canada isn’t only home to me its home to 35.81 million people. (htt1) We live here as a whole, and we love it. We complain about it being -40, or +40 but I honestly do not think that very many of us would change a thing about Canada. We are a hockey loving Tim Horton’s drinking, maple syrup loving country, and don’t you tell me otherwise. To me to be a Canadian you have to make Canada your home before you can say you love it here.

Vancouver, I heard is very similar to Toronto since I like Toronto a lot and Vancouver is similar to it that is why I wouldn’t mind living there. I would move there because the weather in Vancouver is less crazy then Toronto’s, it is also famous for Its beauty and also the air quality is much better.

My mother settled in Vancouver for almost a year then she started her life in Montreal. Since times were tough she was working as a Cashier in a restaurant the name she forgot, in Montreal. Starting life in Montreal, then spending a year in Ottawa because of several education issues. Returning to Montreal and then moving into

On move-in day your Freshman year, you were of course excited and Dad and I shared that excitement. We set up your dorm, carefully placing every item, making sure the beds matched and decorating to show your style. We carefully looked at your schedule for recruitment week so you’d know just which clothes to get ready. We made one last Wal-Mart run, with everyone else in College Station, to be sure you were well-stocked with supplies. Then it was time to leave you. This time, it was Dad who was emotional. He was leaving his little girl, by herself, in a world of young men and women that you, and he, didn’t know. But I wasn’t worried, not this time. I knew you were okay – you were a fierce individualist who knew that you valued education, persistence, loyal friends, and kindness. Aggieland was just the place for you, and when we left you on those stairs of Wells Hall, I hugged you goodbye, confident that you would be

David O’Sullivan, from Yonkers NY, brought up some positive things about living in New York City. He talked about the very social environment. “I moved from there to Morehead, KY and it is totally opposite. I like clubs, bowling alleys, a choice of a million restaurants to eat at, and places to hang out, which are the things New York City has.” David also brought up the point that you do not have to own a car in the city. He took the subway everywhere, and got around much faster than compared to dealing with

We did everything and anything, never taking a break from an adventure. It was all new to me, yet felt so familiar, it was home. Mornings were spent exploring the unknown campus and nights were spent at parties meeting new people I would come to call my bestfriends. We enjoyed the cards college dealt us and it’s “work hard play hard” mentality. Everything was on the table, it was just a matter of how you roll the die. I have never experienced a week quite like it, the summer air still rolls through my senses as the anthem, Closer, whispers in my ear. By the time I got home I was covered in the memories of the scorching frat house basement and mutual friends I came to know. Everything was

I can still hear Lori’s voice whispering to me, and four years later, the sounds are no less symphonic. Four years later, the memories are still vivid and exciting, but on the night before my graduation from medical school, I find myself without Lori and once again alone. Life is truly a matter of perspective. On our first night in this apartment, looking through the window from a vantage point on the floor, I remember seeing only a clear August sky, countless stars that twinkled in synchrony with our heartbeats, and a Gleasonesque moon that seemed almost alive. Tonight, from the vantage point of an empty bed, I can't see the stars or the moon. Looking down through my bedroom window, I can only see the emaciated rooftops of a North Philadelphia tenement. Life is full of such incongruities. As they say in North Philadelphia, "Some days, you're the pigeon, and some days, you're the windshield." Tonight, I'm definitely the windshield. Graduation day from medical school has been the light in my forest for as long as I can

I believe that people are mostly attracted to both Montreal and Toronto due to the diversity and variety of different cultures. Both Montreal and Toronto are big exciting cities with many places to visit

I was six, I knew that we couldn’t stay one place forever. That concept was foreign. Every few years my family and I were stationed to a new place, this time 45 minutes away. Of course, being the stubborn and impatient six year old I was, that seemed a light year away. I have never had friends that lasted over 3 years. Either they left, or I moved. This time, I left first. My friends were my world. I was happy. They were devastated to get the news of my departure. Tears were mixed with the “goodbyes”, and the occasional “I’ll never forget you”.

A year ago I was still a student in University of California, Santa Cruz. Studying in such environment forced me to make the decision to leave California for my future. Nonetheless, saying goodbye to my dearest friends was the hardest task.

As the end of the night approached us, I couldn’t stop thinking about how many mixed emotions I had about starting a whole new chapter in my life. I couldn't wait to go to college, meet all new people, get a degree so that I could start my career path, but I knew that meant I had to say goodbye to my two best friends, who were moving several hours away from me. This was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do in my life. We all cried a little, and then made promises to keep in touch, and then we were off into the real world! I was very happy to be at this point in my life, but I was scared deep down inside.