Only The Curious

A year ago today I did one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I packed two trash bags of clothes and shoes, my guitar, a suitcase, and a few odds and ends into my little Mazda, strapped my bike on the back, and headed West. As glorious and romantic as it was to finally move to Colorado – fulfilling a dream I’d had for 15 years – it meant leaving behind people and a place that I still to this day care about very deeply. And that was harder than I’d ever imagined it could be. I guess that’s why I had returned to Madison “for 6 months” to save money for my move. That was 6 years ago.

Whenever I had pictured my grand departure in my head, it looked something like this: early morning, all of my friends and my family standing around in my parents’ driveway. We would’ve been hanging out and drinking coffee, saying last goodbyes, joking, taking pictures. Then, at the appointed moment, I would climb into my stuffed car, turn on some great exciting song, open my sunroof, and shout a goodbye before pulling out of the driveway, at which point everyone would wave, running down the street, wishing me luck and bidding farewell. We’d take pictures and video out the window as I pulled away, grinning ear to ear at the success of finally GOING.

Yeah, unsurprisingly, it wasn’t like that at all.

Which is not to say there weren’t plenty of sentimental goodbyes – I think I gained 15 pounds last summer going out “for one last beer” or brunch or coffee with people. I had a big goodbye party two days before I left, and a great dinner with my folks the night before. But the actual leaving day? Well, it was the middle of the week and everyone was at work. I was still cramming things in my car around noon.

The worst part was leaving Ian. That was, in fact, a very movie-esque moment, pulling away and watching him grow smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror. I got barely a block out of sight before I had to pull over because I was sobbing so hard. It was so strange to hug someone and say goodbye just like I had every morning for two years, only knowing this time I wouldn’t be back for months, and when I was, that things would inevitably be different. It just felt wrong. And terribly, terribly sad.

I can’t really explain in this moment why he didn’t come along, or why I didn’t decide to stay for him. Suffice it to say that Colorado was my dream and not his, and he had known from probably our first date on that I was going to go someday. He supported it, even though it meant us being apart, potentially permanently. There are probably dozens of posts that could be written about that process and that relationship, but we’ll save those for another day. In the end I am grateful to Ian for not only being supportive but encouraging; I can’t imagine anything that demonstrates love more than literally letting someone go, not knowing if they would ever come back.

{Kim, that last bit applies to you too. Thank you both for being awesome, amazing friends to me even as I was planning my departure and making a mess of your apartment. I still have in my wallet the goodbye note you left me on the table that morning }

Once I regained enough composure to drive another half mile, I picked up my wonderful friend Leah, who had volunteered to help me drive out to Colorado and then flew back alone. I remember the night she offered to come

along, and am still grateful for her support. I don’t know if I could have gotten here in one piece without her.

Then Leah and I went on to my mom’s house for another sad and anticlimactic goodbye. Then we stopped at Target. If you watch the videos from the move, the first one basically starts with me at Target. That was the only time I really considered chickening out. Here I’d been crying and upset for three hours and I wasn’t even actually out of Madison yet. That will definitely leave you wondering if you’re doing the right thing, and at that moment, it seemed so easy to just turn around and go back to mom’s house.

But I knew I’d regret it forever if I didn’t go. Besides, I’d already done the hard part – I’d said goodbye. I’d cried. It would only get easier from here on out. No reason to go through that again, or worse, make it all for naught.

Leah offered to start off the driving, seeing as how I was puffy faced and still intermittently crying. But I insisted that I had to be in the driver’s seat at least until the border. So we got in the car, turned on an awesome, great, departure song, and headed West.

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reflections on my first year here to come tomorrow
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