The story of a girl who's job in life is to change the lives of other people without becoming too emotionally involved. Eventually she cannot take it anymore and is unwilling to let her friend go in the way she has always done before.
Since I was young I'd always known that I was meant to do something. Everyone has aspirations of changing the world, but I knew that mine were far more than aspirations. Something about me made me different from other children my age. It was often said that I had a old head on young shoulders, as the saying went, but I didn't understand quite what that meant until I was well into my teen years.
By the time I was fifteen my family had moved seven times. Every other year there was a new school, new friends. People said I changed them, made their lives different, but I never understood how or why. I only did my best to be a good friend and just as I was getting close to someone, just as they were beginning to see themselves the way I saw them, I always had to move.
Guys never asked me out. I guess I wasn't that attractive, or maybe they had already heard about my reputation for moving. This suited me fine, I didn't want to make moving more painful than it needed to be. These constant changes hurt me, but I knew things would hurt far more if I held on. My old friends and I always exchanged numbers, but they would never call me and I would never call them.
My parents never gave a reason for moving. At the end of the school year I would be told, "We're moving once you get out of school. We've found a nice house somewhere else."
Finding work was never a problem for my parents, even though they never kept the same job for more than two years. I was also fairly sure that we didn't move because they had found jobs in another city or state. We left one place and went to another for no reason. I didn't have the heart to ask either.
Sometimes my friends and I grew apart without me moving. I'd help someone through some great tragedy in their lives and once they got over it I'd be left behind. They'd find other friends and I'd be left by the wayside. It would hurt at first, but the pain would stop after a while.
At the end of middle school I knew my family would probably move again. I was tired of it by this time of my life. I had a best friend. Someone who had opened up to me, someone I had given everything to. At night before I went to bed I would pray, something I never did. My prayers usually went like this:
"Let me stay here just this once. Don't take me from my friend. I am happy. Please God, please God, please. I don't know why things like this happen to me, but please let me stay here where I am happy. I don't know what I can offer you that you don't already have. You are God, after all. But please don't take me from this place."
After eighth grade graduation I expected my parents to come up to me and tell me the usual story, but they didn't. Instead my friend came up to me and told me she was moving.
All the other times I had let people go. This time I wasn't going to let life get the better of me. I would stay in touch.