Leaving

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It’ll be 6 months before I leave for good but it has been 6 years since I started living here. The other night I spent a few hours driving in circles around town; past all the places I’ve lived, stayed, hung out, been happy, and gotten bruised. One of the houses has been torn down, most have new tenants or no longer have anything to do with what they mean to me. I love it here, I’ve loved it here, I’m terrified to leave because it is what I have known and everyone is afraid of leaving what they know (whether they let it stop them is another thing). Moving almost 2000 miles from everyone I know and everywhere I know seems like it needs more of a reason than, ‘I feel like it.’ But I guess this is a different ‘feel like it’ than the ‘felt like it’ excuse I gave as a kid. This time the ‘feel’ part is stronger than any other ‘feel’s I’ve felt before (bear with me). I love it here, but I’m ready to go. I love the people here and will continue to, but I’m ready to give them a hug goodbye and find new people to love. Find new places to drive around and look at years from now, choked up by the memories they’ve helped me create. I’m ready for this because I know there isn’t anything else I’m supposed to be doing. I’m moving to Boston because saying the words out loud make me smile and find a sureness in myself that I didn’t realize I had lost. Because, for once, my gut and my brain feel like doing the same thing.

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