We lived in the "old house" for about 12 years. It was difficult to move into the new house, with new neighbors, new surroundings, and more importantly, what seemed like a new family. I dreaded the move, and everything that came with it. Everything in knew was in the old house. Everybody in the neighborhood thought we were "rich" because our new house was about twice as big as the old house, but I didn't like that stigma. It meant I was different from all of my friends, and I tried so hard to show them I was still the same person. When the move came, we all swore we would remain friends, and see each other frequently.
             After the move, I realized that it wasn't as easy as I had expected. Several months after our move, I tried to call some of my friends, but many had moved, and many just never returned the calls. In my new school, I realized that I was reluctant to be outgoing, and noticed my antisocial behavior was affecting my school. One day, my older brother took me back to the old neighborhood, and I stayed with one of my old friends. We went out, and I started visiting all the people I knew and used to hang out with. I realized a dramatic changed in my friends. Many of the people I felt I rarely even knew. Things had changed.
             I returned the next day to my new house, and realized that I was the only one not coping well with the change. I still had some friends from my old neighborhood, but I guess we were not as close as I figured we were. I looked to the coming days with a different vision in mind. I looked to the coming days with a sort of "out with the old, in with the new" mentality. I quickly made friends, which gave me instant gratification. I had not felt this was since my days in the old house.
             To this day, my closest friends came from the new house. I realize that if I stayed in the "old house" my closest friends would be from that neighborhood, but I would have never met so many
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