The Silent Porch Light

I've never had a home. At least, not the kind people talk about-the kind with roots, memories, and friends who remember your name. My family keeps moving, over and over, like we're chasing something I can't see. I've stopped asking why. I've stopped letting myself care.

So when we ended up in this new town, I told myself it was a waste. Another house, another street, another place I wouldn't stay. I promised I wouldn't get attached.

But then there was her-the girl next door. She kept showing up, with her smile and her stubbornness, as if she didn't hear all the walls I built around me. I didn't want to let her in. I didn't want to feel that kind of ache again when we left.

And yet... a part of me wonders if maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.