Home > Boston...again., Thoughts > Remember when…

Remember when…

Oh, hey! Hi. Hi.

Remember the glorious days when I used to write incessantly and then post it on Facebook so that everyone and their mom saw it?

Yeah. Those were good days. I miss them. A lot. I love writing. I gotta get back to that.

But I feel as though, in Lubbock, I’m frozen when it comes to putting my thoughts on paper. I’m so focused on not thinking about where I am, and trying to figure out where in the heck I’m actually going, that I forget to actually live day to day. It kind of sucks.

Argh.

I’m tired, so unbelievably TIRED, about constantly writing about freakin’ places I miss. Before I moved I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of Lubbock and never, ever look back.

And then I moved. And I loved Boston, truly. But the entire time I was there I wrote about how much I missed Texas.

Now I’m back, and all I can think is that I miss Boston more than I’ve ever missed anything in the world.

My biggest problem is feeling as though I stunted my growth. When I came back from Boston I felt like a new girl. I’d faced new things and learned to stand up to problems and people and speak up for myself. I finally learned how to be confident and bold — to a point. Here, nothing really challenges me outside of work. I’ve settled back into my old life so quickly and so easily it feels like it’s swallowed me up completely.

It’s like I’m chasing this constant feeling of peace. I’m always trying to find that place where my heart actually feels still in some ways possible. My sister and my mom say I need church. But I don’t know. I think I need adventure.

I need to nurse this restless feeling and let it take me where it wants to.

What I’ve been looking into lately allows me to choose an unconventional lifestyle; a life spent stretching myself to my furthest limits and actually trying some new things out.

I want to write about actual adventures.

Half of what I loved most about living in Boston was that things constantly seemed to happen to me that made life exciting. Brilliant. Unpredictable.

A man prayed over me in Starbucks.

Steve brought me coffee every single day at that flower shop of mine.

I stumbled upon forgotten gardens on my walks.

I learned from Betsy.

I unfortunately was the victim of an Internet scam. Looking back now it’s funny, but I’m pretty sure that was the demise of my Boston experience.

I danced my heart out to unconventional bands.

I let my heart be broken a little bit by the diversity of people living in one place. Truly.

The point is, you have to have experiences to write. They always say authors write what they know, and right now, in a city where very little is happening to me, there’s not much for me to write about. And I don’t have time to be imaginative. (I mean, really? It’d take a shitload of imagination to spice up this place.)

I don’t want to moan about missing Boston anymore.

Yet, I’m not going to whine about living and working here and wanting to be out again.

All I can do is move forward. That’s a scary thought. In some ways it feels like I failed by coming back, so striking out for a second time is infinitely more scary. But hey, time will tell.

Things really aren’t so bad here.

Maybe I need to search a little deeper for those interesting moments.

But I don’t think anything will compare to getting prayed over by a man in Starbucks. We’ll see.

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  1. Rob
    August 17, 2010 at 3:41 pm

    You ever listen to the country song “Remember When” by Alan Jackson? When I saw your title, it reminded me of that song. Its a good song, although it doesn’t necessarily reflect on this post. Just wanted to share my thoughts! 🙂 Keep writing!

  2. Dad
    August 24, 2010 at 1:28 am

    Take up skydiving, or get your pilot’s license. Either of those will add some excitement to your life. In fact, if you’ll do the skydiving thing, I’ll pay and I’ll even do it with you and you know what a fear of heights I have. Just saying…think about it.

    Furthermore, if you got your license, we could take turns dropping each other out of the plane. Now that would be cool.

    Love,

    Dad

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