What I Left Behind (boyxboy)

The Country

     So, let me start by telling you; if you sat me down and asked me if I was excited to move to the city two years ago, the answer would be yes. I'd drone on and on about how where I was living was a boring, dark, empty almost wasteland of long curving streets, wind blown cranberry bogs, cul-de-sacs that were full of houses that are too big and extravagant for the menial upper class families that resided there. I'd tell you about how boring it was to grow up in the country where the handful of stores on East Main Street were all closed up before ten. I would tell you to not even get me started on the people of this town. Most were transplants of more suburban areas of this little northeast state. They came here to stake out their own little claim "way out in the middle of nowhere". When in reality, if you get on the highway and go south for about four miles and you are in one of the bigger cities in the state. But the people of this town don't dare venture into the city, they stay on the outskirts of it and do all their shopping away from the "riff-raff" crowd that hangs out on street corners and outside of convenient stores thought the inner city. 

After spending almost fifteen years in the same town, seeing the same faces; Driving up and down the same streets, season after season, year after year. It becomes mundane, boring. I found myself more than excited to leave the house and town I spent my childhood in. I felt that I finally I could let go of everything that hurt me in the last fifteen years. It was a freeing, blissful experience to watch the moving company put the last of the furniture into the moving truck and shut the overhead door with a cliche slam. 

I looked around the empty log cabin that I had made so many memories in for a final time. The only thing that remained was a horribly out of tune stand up piano and a few boxes we left behind for my father to take. I was in such a rush to get over to the new house. I was finally free.