The One in Which I'd Like to Get the Heck Out of Dodge

We were driving home from visiting my parents in Austin and we were driving through the beautiful hill country, being mesmerized by how green, how rolling, and how utterly serene the landscape was. In said state I looked over at Nick and tentatively asked the question: Do you think we will ever move here? The tentatively was because this man is a small town, likes things how they have always been, kind of soul. And he’s a born and raised west Texas guy. And because I wasn’t sure if my fragile, wander-lusting hope could handle a no. To my (joyous) surprise he said: yeah, it’s really beautiful here, isn’t it? Umm, yes boyfriend, it is really kick-a beautiful here.

So now I want to move. I don’t want to say that I don’t like a place. Like the place I currently live. I don’t want to say that because I don’t want to dislike a place based solely on my mindset about it. I might be able to like it if I sent the city good vibes. But no luck so far. I have been here for 6 years and the city has yet to charm me. And that’s not too much to ask, is it? To be romanced, to be taken out and spun around, to be made to fall in love against your own will? Oh, that would be rad, wouldn't it?!

This city has had a good go, it really has. It holds all my college memories, it holds the beginnings of friendships that will thrive throughout the rest of my life, it holds those fiery red sunsets that are more beautiful than any I’ve seen, it holds the day I met this special boy, and the night that I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. It also holds nights that are blanketed with the aroma of manure, and dust storms so thick you can’t see across the street, and where you must get married young and have a lot of babies and sell mary kay and have big, blonde hair and the uniform features a rhine-stone incrusted bag with a giant cross in the middle and a dinner of fried chicken is served at 6 pm sharp and wo-ah no, good golly, that’s not what I want.

So it will not hold the day we get married, and it won’t hold the day I have children (really praying for this!). I want this little place to hold memories, but not my future because that little gem lies elsewhere. Where elsewhere is, I’m not altogether sure. What I am sure of is that it will be dreamy, and it’ll have city lights, it will have me and him and our little family, and it will be happy. Most importantly though, we will be in love, my future city and I.