When I was searching for jobs that I would hopefully have after graduation, the only city I searched in was Charlotte. I thought it was a great city. A real up and coming location just crawling with young professionals. I had tons of friends from school who lived there, and people I had just met through living life. Graduation day came, I packed up my car, and unloaded it in an apartment outside the city. I painted the walls to make it feel more like home, and hung up pictures of myself with my friends and family. Anything to block out the memories that this city held.
Let’s be honest. Before moving here, I had only one reason I was ever in Charlotte and the surrounding area. The first two years of my southern adventure had a lot of time spent in this city, with one specific person. Now that I am here two years after that all ended, I realize that all I know in this city is a bunch of memories. Some good, some bad, and all memories that I would love to not have cross my mind. So, I knew that this was my chance to make new memories.
Once I started my new job at David Yurman, I was acquainted with my incredible coworkers. Suddenly, work felt more like home than the city itself. Why? Because I was surrounded by people who made me feel worthwhile, and understood me. No pseudo friends, who merely saw me as a convenience when others were not around, were in sight. But, after my shift ended, I was forced to come back to my lonely one bedroom apartment, only to be greeted by my cat. Once I got into the swing of things with the new job, I started getting more involved in the city. Met up with young alumni of my alma mater, lots of dates, and finding my way into philanthropic involvement. It was like being back in Columbia, minus the $2 drinks in Five Points, and a hangover cure a la Salty. But, nights and days end, and I was alone again.
Not that there is anything wrong with being alone. I value my alone time very much. However, when my adorable imagination gets the best of me, it can quickly become my worst enemy. I can’t help but remember what this city was to me. No matter what it is now, it does not feel like home. It feels like an empty skeleton, where my past once lived. It feels like a hollowed out story book, filled with pages that say “once upon a time”. It feels like everything I had hoped it wouldnt.
This city reeks of you. It reeks of the past. It reeks of things that I can no longer stand. Well, I should say, it reeks of things that I can no longer have. It’s taken quite the toll on me. Sleepless nights, and days spent in bed because I physically cannot bring myself to leave because the anxiety of running into you is crippling. I have too much on my mind, too much that I want to say, and way too much that I need to think through.
So with that, I think it’s time for me to go to Boston. Where everyone knows my name.