I have left before but this time was easier. The first time I did not want to go but knew it was for my betterment. I was also leaving for a place I did not want to live. I was eighteen, a new high school graduate in love with her first boyfriend and every detail that was part of the picturesque tropical setting of a small beach town. Tanned skin, sun bleached hair, bright days, sparkling water, cool breeze, lush greenery, warm sand, coconut scented sunscreen that wafted sweetly through the air, the setting sun. It was my decision but it still felt as if I was being ripped away from everything I cherished. As each day grew closer to my departure a pang of sadness swelled inside me so great I thought it may end me. Countless tears were shed for the landlocked, sweltering, southern, nowhere I was going for the next few years for college. My favorite thing there ended up being finally getting to leave. A stark contrast to a place where I have a favorite palm tree.
All I could dream about for five and a half years was getting back to where I belonged. The desire constantly burning, it fueled my actions, decisions, every waking thought. I was tired of feeling forgotten and left behind with each milestone my friends bypassed and also worn down from not fitting into a place that would never understand me. I was in their strange land so I felt compelled to walk on eggshells the best I knew how, often silent and nodding.
So after all that time of dedicating my energy to this personal mission to return and resume the life I felt like I deserved, why would I dismantle it piece by piece and abandon it all again?
The town motto is “Catch the Charm” and it captured my heart completely. It was the place I was born and not a lot of residents can actually say they are from there. I have always regarded it as special, if not near magical. There was an easiness to it that set it apart from commercially generic beach towns and made it revered as a hidden gem. Having imported a non-townie, from that sweltering middle of nowhere, it was beautiful to show it to an outsider and rediscover the uniqueness through another’s eyes. When you drive over the south causeway and reach the apex it feels like you can see the whole world. The ocean at the horizon, terracotta roofs bespeckled between verdant treetops, and the river stretching endlessly in either direction. Eagerly I share with anyone receiving my not-actually-patented tour that once at the top if you look north you can see the lighthouse. In the evening as it blinks with each rotation of the Fresnel lens I make a wish as if it holds this kind of power. If nothing else I am manifesting my hopes and dreams through positive thought. But it’s probably actually magical.
I met people who claimed they have never met someone who is as proud of where they are from as I am. I pride myself as an ambassador of this paradise.
Then little by little the unappreciated quirks and my secret places started disappearing, each a dagger to my heart. It made me feel helpless and enraged. I have an affinity to places more than I do with most people, but I suppose everyone is a guardian of something. Others started crying out but it was too late. Acres of trees older than most of the inhabitants gone for yet another car dealership, cell phone store, auto parts retailer, or Dollar General. It might be “progress” but haven’t any of you people ever seen FernGully?
It seemed to be insult to injury over and over. The land behind our house was deemed for conservation as a preserve never to be touched and served as a thick buffer from the interstate. Money talks and it was eventually rezoned with thousands of identical taupe pick-a-plan homes being added, as well as more commercial space for all of the above-mentioned unnecessary crap.
Can I just get a Whole Foods out of this? No? Useless.
A fire from a not-so-controlled burn during the land clearing got out of hand incinerating additional unintended acreage very close to my house. I raced home in the middle of the work day in case I needed to evacuate my dog and cat. It was too close for comfort but ended with a happy ending, no one’s homes were harmed in this ignorant mishap. Yet another damning moment that drove me to believe this wasn’t my beloved home I once adored. A change of the wind and the story turns out differently.
The house I lived in, the schools I went to, the places I went, the roads we drove on all had to be built somewhere. I am not that naive or blinded by my anger. If there were worthwhile, unique additions some of this destruction could seem it was not for nothing. “Charming” as a signifier is quickly becoming fallacy with each passing day. I just do not want to see it anymore. I do not want to live it.
Coming and going from work I shielded my eyes from the forest stripped land just to arrive upon the interstate and its chopped up land being primed for never ending construction. The ugliness of change ubiquitously oozed from all angles, nothing safe, nothing sacred.
My internal wall had grown too high and too strong blocking out the emotions I once felt. It was time for me to move on. Effortlessly multiple areas in my life began to align to nudge me toward leaving.
I wasn’t sad to leave, I wanted to go. It was nothing like the last time I moved away. Back then it was all so beautiful and tragic. Sigh, young love. There is nothing left trying to hold onto. My Cohabiteur would be with me and anything important could come with me- or visit.
Frequent travel led to fantasizing about what it would be like to live wherever I was at the moment. Something about New York City always made me long for it and wildly wish I could be there. There is an intense energy in the city’s chaos. I found it either shuts you down or wakes you up. The invigorating rush was like a pull drawing me to it like I was always meant to come here.
Opposed to my small beach town, this could not be any more opposite. Concrete, bricked buildings, limestone and brownstone townhouses, glass skyscrapers all stand where my precious trees once did, save the burgeoning parks, both famous and less known, that cropped up around the five boroughs. With air quality once poor in the city the need for vegetation became obvious in its essentiality. The city is what it is and has been for a long time. Well before me. It had already happened and I did not have to be party to it. Unlike my previous home at least I could get green juice. And a Whole Foods. I want all of the perks.
Not everything had spoilt and soured rotten before I turned and ran. I wondered what is it I would miss? So I wrote out a list in anticipation of the things I would think of when I am gone. When I am lost in my thoughts where would I go or see? When I look back a year from now, or longer, I wonder how much will be accurate and what I guessed incorrectly? Better, what is it I did not realize I would miss? Or worse, what else would be lost to the over-development scourge?
Because sharing is caring I will include the list here in no particular order:
- Rock Springs at Kelly Park
- Wishing on the lighthouse
- Road trips
- Singing in the car with the a/c on full blast
- Theme parks
- Colorado Fondue
- Cinnamon Tree Cafe
- All the time I put into my house
- My GYN
- My Primary Care Physician
- No waits at restaurants
- Third Wave Cafe
- Giving my should-be-patented tour
- Charles Dummett’s grave in the road
- Christmas Parade
- Boat parade
- The Garlic
- The bidet at The Garlic
- Being able to let my dog out the door to use the facilities
- All of this space… that I never used
- My neighbors
- Al Capone’s house on Riverside Drive that will one day be mine
- My favorite palm tree
- All of the other palm trees
- Seeing the draw bridge up from the other bridge and not being on it
- The view from the South Causeway
- Riverside Drive in general
- My bicycle, Frank Cherry Cola
- Peddling so fast the wind is in my face on the trail by my old house
- Driving my Mercedes-Benz GLK 320
- Certain people
- Central Air Conditioning
- Insane lightening
- Brilliant thunderstorms
- La Fiesta
- Smyrna Dunes Park R.I.P. old boardwalk
- Riverside Park R.I.P. old castle playground
- Old Fort Park R.I.P. super old water tower, I will never get over you
- Hibiscus and bougainvillea
- Sunken sailboats and where in the river they end up and then spotting them
- The place I get my pumpkin every year
- My history
Okay, so it is kind of a lot. There are things I will not miss as well… but those are for another time.
There are many reasons why one picks up and moves on. For me this is just scratching the surface but it is not healthy to dwell on the past. I am grateful for the beauty I had while I had it. As it is said, nothing gold can stay. It will color my memories fondly as I choose to hold onto the best parts. At the end of the day I know my way back… to visit.
Title of the post inspired from “Leaver’s Lullaby” by Pistol Annies. This is my version of the lullaby.
New York Nobody 