I sat beneath that buzzing neon sign and it was like reality breaking through the dream. It wasn’t at all like that song that had always stood in my mind as a city story — a story I’d thought I might write one day.
I sat there feeling sick to my stomach; full of dread and knowing I would never come back. To any of it. We talked and talked and I just felt worse, until finally I was just a small voice saying “okay” and biking off in the dark. Back on birch street, I laid on my bed in my shoes and cried a few brief moments. For those few moments, all of September flooded me and left in an instant.
Something shifted shortly after that. I can’t say what exactly changed or when the page turned, but like with all growth it happened inexplicably and imperceptibly. And on one Friday, shuttling back into the city, I felt a completeness and an energy and a readiness for the next pop of light.