To find somewhere you belong and then have it torn from your grasp is truly tragic.

As a child, I never belonged anywhere.

I was never very popular; I never stuck out.

I kept to myself because no one was interested in knowing me.

I'd make a friend or two, but they'd never last.

Soon enough, they'd leave me for someone else.

I didn't belong, until one day, I did.

I found a place to call home.

I found people who became my family.

For the first time in my life, I belonged somewhere.

I made memories that will never leave my bones.

I laughed a thousand laughs and cried a hundred tears of joy.

I spent as much time as I could in that place, with those people.

I would rather have been there than anywhere else in the world.

Because there, people saw me.

People noticed me.

People cared about me.

Some people even loved me.

I never wanted to leave.

When I was told I had to go, my heart broke.

I wept and wept, but not from joy this time.

How could I leave a place so dear to me?

How could I say goodbye to the place I belonged in?

I suppose that's the way life is.

We come and go, things change, people change.

Nothing stays the same, not the way we want it to.

Everybody grows up sometime.