When I was in middle school and high school I used to think about how cool it would be if I had my own apartment in a huge city. I love the feeling of the being anonymous, of being another story in thousands of stories sitting on top of each other. Of interacting with people in a way that was slight and could be so much more if a pin dropped in the right way.
Now I'm thinking about Seattle and where we would live and I balk at the thought of a tiny apartment anywhere, at the thought of being confined.
You ruined me for life, desert. I need my space. I need to be spread out.
I still like big cities. I could never live in Tucson my entire life, or Flagstaff. I still love those stories stacked on each other, and I guess it's egotistical, but I like the possibility of maybe being in them. So Seattle is still the right choice.
It feels more and more like this might be our last few months here. Our plans keep shifting, and it's hard to nail anything down, but I'm thinking about it a lot and today we looked at more houses and actually plotted for a year in the future. We have only a dog and a house full of things to get there, and I think that's completely doable in a few weeks. If we wait until October to commit to anything, we'll be sitting super pretty.
I'm always ready to pack my life up and move. I have more baggage now than I have ever had in my life, and that's taken some time adjusting to, because when I've planned, it's always just me. Now I have a dog and this boy and all his baggage too. It's a lot to get used to.
I would miss my stars, the sunsets, and the beauty of these mountains. But I would get the ocean, and stars, and that's enough.
It's 3am and I'm feeling very nostalgic.