I am writing from small town library, which, unlike my home, has air conditioning.  I decided to venture down from the mountain for the afternoon to spend some time wandering around my hometown.  I think I’m going to drop some clothing off at the Senior Center, stop by my mom’s office, and just wander.

The sense of nostalgia that strikes you before you move from an area is somewhat unnerving.  In the past, I have found myself not really enjoying the town I currently live in; I moved a short four years ago.  Now, with a permenant move out of the area, I find myself trying to latch onto a few last memories.  Several days ago, Zach mentioned the feeling he had as we packed up the last of his belongings from his old apartment.  I didn’t quite understand, but in the last few days, I have definitely begun to develop my own case of growing up blues.  I’m not quite upset, per se, but instead, remembering the times that I had there, or the nights spent here, or the memory of hanging out there with so-and-so.  It’s not leaving the place behind so much as it’s moving on from a time in your life that you can’t get back anymore.  This is the first time that I’m moving away from my family (besides college) and it’s different to see the changes that have taken place since the initial decision was made.

Which leads me to people who simply never leave this town.  Those that were born here, grew up here, decided to stick around, have a few kids of their own, and now love to write into the local paper about the problems that plague this place.  While I personally think that maybe, just maybe, there’s something somewhat magical about raising your kids in the place you yourself grew up, I honestly don’t think it overrides the idea that if you weren’t happy with a place as a kid, chances are, you won’t be as an adult.  Hence why I’m moving.  I realize that this is a dead-end town, perfect for retirement perhaps, but not for a budding writer or 20-something looking for a job in the communications field.  Most of the communication here can be done with a colloquial phrase that you wouldn’t understand if from the next town over.  I suppose there’s a comfort about staying in one place, but for me, the idea of movement and fluidity takes over.  I’m looking to absorb as much as I possibly can during my time on earth, even if it means making the sacrifices necessary to pay rent when I could instead be living for free in my parents’ home.  Moving out simply translates into growing up for me, even if it’s slightly premature.

So with these last two weeks ahead of me, I plan to eat as much frozen yogurt from local drive-in establishments, rent many movies, enjoy a cup of tea or two at the coffee shop that made me feel like I was cool in high school, hopefully attend the $4 theatre at least one more time, swing by the scenic overlook one evening for a hike, and say goodbye to the town that got me through high school.  It’s the least I could do.