can you ever go back?

I was thinking about it the other day. Other places I’ve moved away from, I have never returned back. Ever. After graduating Mississippi State, I never returned back to campus. I think it was partially fueled by my sorority chapter closing. There was something about the absence of the sorority house, that central locale to meet-up, which I think couldn’t help but deter me. And then there’s Miami. Some three years after leaving my home of some three and a half years, I have yet to return as well. Perhaps it’s just because things move on. We can’t help but get busy. But is it also not wanting to turn back?

I think part of me couldn’t help but be antsy about going back to DC. It’s sort of like finalization that it’s no longer my home. Going back, I’d be heading to some of my favorite spots but, at the end of the night, I would not be returning to my own bed. When I went to get ready to head out, I would not be greeted by the full line-up of my shoe collection but would instead be forced to either go with my practical short black boots or my more fun black patent leather pumps.

I slept basically the whole way there. Verdict was that the Acela was nice, but “nice” alone doesn’t justify the additional $70-$80 price tag. I did love the quiet car! I didn’t mean to sit there, but it did mean that I was able to sleep, and I mean DEEP sleep, the entire 2 hours and 45 minutes. It never ceased to amuse me to watch those around me freak out and spastically “SHHHHH” those riders who weren’t complying. Awesome.

After dropping luggage off at WT and AM’s place, we were off to dinner at Cafe 8. It was great to catch up with all of my friends, as I was surrounded by the Tour Guide, DrP, MsH, WT, and AM. DrP’s cousin was also in attendance – this trip being hi first up to DC. Great food and far superior company. From there, it was off to the Mug. Awwww. Baseball season for me is now officially underway with this visit. Our server was a riot. We’d drawn hearts on our receipt at Cafe 8, and our “harrassment” of the wait staff continued over to the Mug as well.

Saturday both WT and AM had to work, so I headed out for brunch with DrP. DrP had plans that evening, so instead we decided to make some day plans to substitute for our cancelled picnic (weatherman, you were *SO* off!). We made a quick run to Firehook for some scones and then went back to her place for some tea. She’d brought back a whole stash of tea from Hong Kong, and I opted to try the ones most different from anything I’d ever tried.

We sat and chatted for some more than three hours, slowly sipping away in our little teacups the pot of tea she had brewed for us. There was lot to discuss… travels… friends… men… it was such a perfect afternoon, and I’m so glad things worked out that this was my Saturday afternoon. Saturday night brought a girl’s dinner at L’Enfant Cafe followed by meeting up with so many at Local 16. Local 16 is just too appropriate of a choice for DC in the springtime – even at this early point in the season.

Sunday I was happy to be able to be at my old church for my pastor’s last Sunday. I’ll have to save comments on that one for another time. From there, AM and I were off to the Domestic Goddess’ place, where she and her roomie, JS, were cooking up a fantastic post-Cherry Blossom 10 Miler brunch. One of their friend’s even brought homemade authentic baklava. I’m a believer now that I never have truly had baklava before. Oh my. Divine.

I guess the funny thing about my visit was I felt like it made my move real. Official. And I was so happy to be back for a visit, amongst familiar faces and all too familiar places.

But just the same, I think the visit confirmed somehow even though it means I have to communicate with these friends from a distance, I am where I need to be. I’m doing what I need to be doing.

At the end of the weekend though, I realized I missed the city. Just that feel of it. As my train turned the corner with the glow of Manhattan visible in the distance, I couldn’t help but muster up a groggy smile. There’s something about NYC that other cities just don’t have. Either you love it, you fight it, or you hate it. And oh how I love it.

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2 thoughts on “can you ever go back?

  1. Sometimes it’s hard to go back too, because you realize just how much you don’t belong in those places anymore. At least, that’s how I’ve felt. It’s like they served their purpose – which sounds kind of morbid and sad…but that’s not how I mean it!

    And I’m so happy you love NYC. I think it’s the best city. People down here think I’m nuts for that.

  2. Oh, LJ. How I miss you! I boast that I got more “face time” with you than anyone else, and every second was exquisite. I miss you like my own sister. Thanks for sharing the pu’er. But I’m glad that you felt like you were returning home on Sunday afternoon – there’s nothing as affirming as the feeling that one is going “home.” I love you.

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