I Know She’s Write

My friend Olivia told me I should write every day. I told her I am lazy. Which is definitely true and probably why I am stuck on this sentence. I want to go back to sleep but can’t. The sun is up and has already jerked my eyelids awake and made its presence known. Currently I am staying with my boyfriend, the forever bachelor, his cat, a feline forever bachelor, and my dog. Therefore, each morning I am not only greeted by the burning fire ball through Joe’s curtain-less windows but also by the sounds of desperate hissing and dog nails scurrying across the wood floor.

Even with an abbreviated sleep schedule, it has been lovely playing house with him. We spend a lot of time together in general but this live in relationship has already forced us to accept the unavoidable truth about bodily functions – every body has got them and there’s only one way out. Joe likes to call this morning bathroom break “Christmas” and if I am near I either turn the kitchen sink on or the TV volume up. When Christmas comes for me, I ask him to go outside.

I’m sure if we had more time together this situation would lose its hilarity and become ordinary. It’s kind of nice that it doesn’t get the chance to. I move in six days to the Wild West in search of gold and wide-open spaces that the Dixie Chicks sang to me about in my youth. However, since I am moving to Denver, I think it’s safe to assume the gold will be green and the wide-open spaces will cost you. So yeah, let’s just say I’m going for the adventure of it.

It’s my first time living out of Florida for an extended period of time. I said a tearful goodbye to my parents yesterday and felt like I was going off to college all over again, except this time it was the freshman year of my adulthood and the rents weren’t footing the bill. As I left, my mom told me that she was excited for this adventure but it was okay to like the place where I grew up. A lot of people leave their hometowns in search of something better, greater, something that fits them more and allows them to truly blossom into the person they always wanted to be but couldn’t because of small cities, lack of opportunity, or family circumstance. I’m lucky that I am not one of them. I have people and places that make saying goodbye so hard.

I do like Florida. I like the wet air, the hundred degree-days, the mostly flat land that extends for miles past subdivisions and strip malls only to come to a halt at the burning white sand and shark infested waters of New Smyrna beach. I will miss sweating all the time. It feels good, like I’m on a constant detoxifying cleanse and the only nourishment is a beer turned lukewarm in a matter of minutes. I like the lack of hustle that even Florida’s largest cities exhibit – happy hour starts at five sharp and it’s always beach weather; unless a hurricane is on the horizon, then it’s time to surf.

I’ll miss the afternoon thunderstorms you could set your watch to. I’ll miss seeing them roll in and knowing cooler weather was on the way, if only because the sun was hidden for a few hours. I know Colorado is beautiful in a different way and I’m happy to fall in love again with a new place, to learn its topography, weather patterns, and people that make it unique. I’ll just miss the place I’m from.

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