One year ago today, NovySan and I stumbled off a red-eye flight from Los Angeles into an unseasonably warm, sticky Boston haze, gathered up our luggage, and tried to wrap our jet-lagged brains around the MBTA. Several transfers, bruised shins, and pulled muscles later, we staggered into our summer sublet and fell asleep before we could decide where to eat breakfast.
I don’t think it was ever a secret that I didn’t like Los Angeles, although I don’t think most of my friends ever knew just how miserable I was there. There were things I liked about the city, and people there I loved, but in 10 years, it never felt like home. I wasn’t sure, when I moved here, whether Boston/Cambridge would be home. I’d only visited once, on my way to Viable Paradise. I didn’t make it across the river that time, but walking in the chilly morning fog of the Back Bay, I thought, “I could have a really serious love affair with this city.” And I have.
It’s not an easy thing to put into words, this feeling of belonging. It bubbles over until I have to wear sunglasses on cloudy days, lest strangers on the street see the tears in my eyes. It tempts me to sing on the bridges (which might be allowed), and to hug strangers (which almost certainly wouldn’t). It expresses itself in endless pictures of the sunset from my window (be grateful I don’t share them all) and a desire to involve myself in the life of this place in a way I never did in LA.
Whether we stay here after Dan graduates or not, I will enjoy every moment here.
I’m not homesick any more.
Is that another Novy in the background? WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT THAT MEDIA LAB?!?!
The bartender does rather look like he could be related, doesn’t he? Novy sent him off to run some experiments with overproof rum and a lemon peel.
Hooray, hooray, the First of May!