a year & 1/2 ago, i wrote about coming back to dc from chicago. about resetting my computer's clock.
i've just done it again. school is about to start, and i'm painfully missing all that i left behind. but the strange thing is, i felt that way upon arriving in chicago 3 months ago.
the week before i left was magical in a way. it was one of those times when the senses are heightened and everything is urgent. And this was due in no small part to the immanent departure of several good friends. Having earned post graduate degrees, all were bound for greater adventures...in the UK, South America, and the Texas (yes, the Texas). And we celebrated in style. Late night margarita-fueled romps through our favorite garden. Galavants through the woods in the pouring rain. BBQs turned dance lessons. Jack Daniels-inspired antics, and a long night that began with Japanese bar karaoke and ended at 4 am the the Chesapeake basement.
The city felt alive and I wanted to kiss everyone. I wanted to pour myself into their lives the way Carolina kept pouring wine into my glass. But time was running out, and we had spent too many of our opportunities simply staring at maps in the cubicles. These moments were all we had left.
carolina pours me more wine
And then after staying up until 4am and stealing the Chesapeake basement bed from ben, i awoke on a wednesday morning at 8am. I with my wrinkled, sweat-soaked clothes from the night before and unbrushed teeth, shared a metro car with the world of good government workers, off to a boring wednesday in the office. And I wanted to shout at them "Don't you realize? I'll never see them again!" But alas, they went about listening to their ipods, reading free papers, and generally trying not to make eye contact with anyone. And then I loaded up the car and left.
I arrived in Heytown, and then Chicago a bit melancholy. For a few weeks I regretted my decision. But slowly the pain faded. I didn't think about those I left behind every day. I didn't wish to be at deluxe or cantina with the jag and futurama. I fit myself back into chicago. I ran into old friends on the street. I saw my sister as much as I liked. I went for bike rides, and brewed beer, made ice cream, and escaped the city for more rural settings. and it felt like home.
and then responsibility (or however one might refer to grad school) ripped me away and back here. and again, i'm going through withdrawal. i want to buy cheap avocados at tiangis. i miss my walks down Milwaukee ave. i'd rather be back watching world cup with 100 mexicans in a cuban cafe. salvadorans just won't cut it. i want my yoga room and basil plant back. i want postone. i want to sleep beside someone.
i suppose its a never ending (and i mean that figuratively...it better end) cycle of becoming comfortable and then ripping yourself away. Perhaps I'm lucky to have two homes, but that also means that one is never completely home. there's always something missing. perhaps this is the postmodern condition in which space and time are both compressed and stretched. perhaps this is the direction we're all moving. but one thing i know is tomorrow afternoon i will see the great majority of the people i love who live in this city. and i can't freaking wait to go have a drink with them.
