The House That Raised Me

This time, everything feels different- not louder, just unbearably heavy. The years ahead move forward without waiting for me. A kind of change that doesn't announce itself, that settles deep in the chest when you realize nothing will ever return the way it once held you. Festivals will still come. Lights will shine, songs will be sung- yet my heart will search for something missing. Not the noise, but the love hidden inside it. After leaving my parents' home, celebrations feel distant. Laughters feels borrowed, meals taste like longing, and joy arrives already carrying loss. Being an only child hurts the deepest - no one to share the ache with, no one to say, " I miss them too" I hold it alone, a quiet inheritance of love and pain. With teary eyes, I gather what I can never take- the walls that watched me grow, the voices that called me home, the silence that once meant safety. I carry them in memory, afraid of forgetting, learning how to live with the house that raised me now standing behind me, loving me from a distance.