Everyones Favorite Cliched Topic
[But I don't care because it's what I feel, and honestly, the word 'cliched' is cliched.]

Change.

Well. I was just having the strangest feeling in my stomach. Queasy-ish. And I have this growing urge to talk to have someone to talk to, to explain ‘change’ to me because as much as I try to understand things the less sense they make. A few days ago, courtesy Facebook, I found one of my best friends – in the first, second, and third grade. His name was Ryan Faer, it’s been 7 years. It seriously made me think a lot. Mostly about home, but that’s something I think I’ve mentally sorted out. However...
Change is still on my mind. My elementary school years they purely rocked. After that, there was change. And more change. And more change.
After third grade, the awesomest year of my life so far, we moved here. I guess you could say life was really different, not really in a bad way, just realllyy diff. When I look at the third graders I know, I feel like I was so much more mature than them. Life used to be ‘bigger’ and ‘realer’, if that makes any sense. Well anyways, then my dad decided that we were going to move. It was pretty sudden. So I guess I .. I was excited at first. I was excited, I didn’t know what I was getting into. Maybe I wasn’t that mature then.
I went to the American school from fourth grade till the end of sixth grade. I never fit in there, I don’t think anyone really did. There were eighty percent Arabs, and the rest were from all over. I had one really good friend, who was Australian, who did keep in touch. Because in 7th, I changed schools again. Finally, I thought, people I have something in common with! I made friends, but besides three really awesome friends, everyone else was barely more than an acquaintance for around a year because it turned out that no matter where I went I would always be really different. I wouldn’t want to take back anything, but things could’ve been better. More change. Fights. More change, in many many ways. Which wasn’t very pretty. But yea.
But then… After well. A lot of personal stuff that I’ve kept from most people, I think I finally found a bit of myself again. Things were good. And that summer, I went away. And I was told that I wouldn’t be coming back. But I did. For 8 months. And those eight months, were finally, good good months. Even if I was missing half a family. Things were better.
And then. More change. I don’t know if I was supposed to approve or embrace it but at first, I told myself I did. I mean. There’s nothing like being with family. But looking back, this is the most used to anything I’ve ever gotten and I don’t know if I can adapt all over again.
So change has left me bruised and battered and now it’s approaching again. And truthfully. I don’t know what to do. If only I was given something to believe in ..

PS: You're wrong. I'm not over reacting.