Today I said goodbye to the house where my family lived since I was ten. In a few days’ time it’ll be sold and I’ll never enter it again. So today I cried a little for the child I had been, but all in all, I can’t say I’m sad to let the house go. As my Mum said, it holds too many bad memories. Too many ghosts to haunt one’s dreams. I still remember the day we moved in, the day the furniture was brought up north all the way from the Black Forest. There were long traffic jams on the motorways that day, so the furniture and my parents were late. I remember sitting on the wooden stairs in my room and reading Oliver Twist. I loved these wooden steps, that part of my room high up under the room, from where you could see the planes rise into the sky from Frankfurt Airport. I was filled with so many hopes and dreams that day – most of which were shattered in the following years. They say that your childhood and youth is the best time of your life. Yet I would never want to relive that time again. There’s a reason why I’ll never ever go to a class reunion. And it isn’t as if the teachers didn’t like me. But then, they never helped me either, did they? So many shattered dreams, a child robbed of its childhood. There isn’t much of human pettiness that can shock me today. And yet, when I walked through that house today, that empty shell of a past life, I realized I’ve finally slipped away from that past. Of course, it will never go away, it will always be part of me, but it did not destroy me. Instead it made me stronger. It taught me to stand up for myself. To fight viciously when there’s the need. Nice and harmless, but might get vicious when crossed, that’s me. *g* I am no longer that sad and lonely child. The past no longer holds me in its thrall. I have finally come into my own.

And so I went home with a smile. :O)