When I was in Seattle, I felt little pieces of the place I have longed for this past year. And, although San Francisco is that place in the back of my head, what I want might be broader than SF's 7 miles x 7 miles of gorgeous space. Maybe I should have known going into it, or perhaps I should have been more perceptive over the last 12 months, but Denver will never be good enough because I don't want it to be good enough. That sounds harsh, but like the age old break-up phrase, "It's not you, it's me."
I've gone through phase after phase where I have tried to have a more positive outlook. I look for and acknowledge the things I do love about Denver (the sunshine, the parks, that biscuit place down the street), but there's always a driver, yes, a person driving a car, that near tries to run me off the road (whether I'm biking or walking) and all my anger and resentment floods right back in. He or she makes me want to scream expletives, running to board the next flight out of here. I could rant and rave about the times I've come far too close to losing my precious life at the hands of a man that doesn't seem to understand the most basics of road rules. It seems nothing can make me lose my mind as fast as a Denver driver. But, then again, I know I'd never make it running to the airport. It's so far away, I'd pass out dead in the wasteland before I could get there.
But it's more than the driver that ticks me off. In fact, the driver is more of a scapegoat for me than anything. See, what San Francisco did to me wasn't turn me into a city girl (although it did that too), it turned me into a different person. And, that different person collides against a lot of things here in Denver (hopefully, it's never those drivers, right?). My perspective on social justice and faith and contentious hot-topic issues just don't seem to be able to play out as easily. A conflict of ideologies shouldn't have an affect on whether I like a place, but as shallow as it seems, it does. The coffee, the food, and the take-a-stand pedestrians and cyclists all blanket this place I think of as home. They blanket thoughts and perspectives, and standards and beliefs. And above all, they represent a broader spectrum of livelihoods, cultures, and diversity. A richness that is, in my opinion, severely lacking in cities and towns across the U.S.
San Francisco's not perfect, but it captured my heart. And, it's hard to parcel any of it out to other places. But what's harder is trying to figure out what it is that I'm really missing and hoping in the future I will have it once again. I may not be able to completely put my finger on that something that I feel is missing, but I think I'll know it when I experience it. Until then, I may have to continue my critique of the superficial. "The coffee is just so much better in the Northwest." It's not really fair, especially for Denver friends that I'm sure have had to resist the urge to tape my mouth shut when I can't stop complaining. I just know when some place, or something, or someone's story resonates, it can leave a lasting impression. One that is hard to forget. And, one that is longed for in order to feel that closeness again. To feel known and accepted.
{This post took me 9 days to write! If only the actual quality of writing could have improved in that time}
No comments:
Post a Comment