Me and My Feelings

 

Me and My Feelings

Eliza clutched the worn teddy bear, its fur matted with forgotten tears. She stared

 at her reflection in the dusty mirror, a stranger with eyes that mirrored the stormy

 evening sky outside. Feelings. That was the enemy. They were unpredictable

 storms that swept through her, leaving wreckage in their wake.

It had always been this way. Joy, a fleeting butterfly that alighted briefly before

 vanishing. Sadness, a heavy cloak that settled for days, weeks, sometimes months.

 And anger, oh the anger, a fire that burned hot and destructive. It had driven a

 wedge between her and her best friend, Sarah, who couldn't handle the

 unpredictable emotional outbursts.

Tonight, the anger was a roaring beast. Her parents' announcement echoed in her

 head: their move across the country for a new job. Leaving behind their cozy,

 familiar house, their supportive friends, leaving behind Eliza.

"It's a great opportunity," her father had said, his smile strained. "Think of it as a fresh start."

A fresh start. Eliza scoffed. Fresh starts seemed to be their family motto, leaving

 behind the remnants of her happiness like discarded clothes.

The anger morphed into a suffocating sadness. Tears welled up, blurring her

 reflection. It wasn't just about leaving; it was a terrifying separation from the only

 constant in her life – her feelings.

Suddenly, a soft voice startled her.

"Eliza?"

It was Sarah. Standing at the doorway, a hesitant look on her face. Eliza hadn't seen

 her since their last fight. She braced herself, anticipating another hurtful exchange

. But Sarah walked in, sat beside her on the bed, a silent understanding passing

 between them.

"I heard about the move," Sarah whispered, offering a small, sad smile.

The dam broke. Tears streamed down Eliza's face as the words tumbled out, the

 fear, the resentment, the overwhelming sadness. Sarah didn't try to fix it. She

 simply listened, a warm hand resting on Eliza's arm, a silent acknowledgment of

 the storm raging within.

For the first time, Eliza didn't feel alone in the chaos. There was a strange comfort in

 sharing her vulnerability, in seeing the flicker of empathy in Sarah's eyes. As the

 tears subsided, a weary silence settled.

"I get it," Sarah finally said, her voice soft yet firm. "It's scary, and it's okay to feel scared."

Eliza looked at her, surprised. "It is?"

"Absolutely," Sarah said. "Change is scary, and moving is a huge change. It's okay to

 feel angry, sad, lost – even at your parents."

A hesitant nod escaped Eliza's lips. This wasn't the accusatory reaction she was

 used to. Maybe, just maybe, sharing her feelings wasn't a weapon, but a bridge.

The next few weeks were a blur of packing, goodbyes, and choked-back tears. Eliza

 confided in Sarah, expressing her anxieties, her fear of forgetting her old life, of

 losing herself in the new place. Sarah listened patiently, offering support and

 advice. They spent evenings tucked in the attic, sorting through old memories,

 laughing and crying together.

The day of the move arrived, heavy with unspoken goodbyes. At the airport, Eliza

 hugged Sarah tightly, clinging to a fragile thread of hope.

"We'll figure it out," Sarah promised, her voice thick with emotion. "No matter where

 we are."

The new town was a stark contrast to their old one. Everything felt unfamiliar, the

 people, the sights, the sounds. Eliza felt like a lost leaf in a swirling wind.

The first few months were a struggle. School was overwhelming, making friends

 seemed impossible, and the loneliness gnawed at her. Her feelings, once again,

 became her enemies. The frustration at not fitting in turned into anger, lashing out

 at her parents, who were battling their own anxieties about the new job.

But amidst the darkness, there was a flicker of light. Eliza remembered Sarah's

 words  – "It's okay to feel." She began to write. Not just journaling, but pouring her

 emotions onto paper – the anger, the sadness, the fear. It was a messy, chaotic

 process, but slowly, a sense of catharsis emerged.

One day, while writing at a local coffee shop, a girl with bright, inquisitive eyes

 approached her. "Is that poetry?" she asked, pointing to Eliza's scribbled notebook.

Eliza, hesitant at first, opened up about her writing. To her surprise, the girl, Maya,

 shared her own passion for poetry. A new friendship blossomed, their shared

 vulnerability a bridge across the social divide.

Slowly, Eliza started to navigate her new life. She joined the school's writing club,

 finding solace in expressing her feelings through words. She discovered a hidden

 talent for photography, capturing the beauty she found