I was feeling a bit blue today, looking at the world with heavy eyes, dragging through mud and longing.
At lunch, I grabbed my ipod and took a walk around, near Haymarket and Faneuil Hall, watching the people, taking in the scene.
I don’t know if it was the weather, or Amy Winehouse in my ears, or the city itself, but that 30-40 min walk cheered me beyond belief. Probably a combination of all three.
Walking back to the office, I was reminded by how hard I fell for this city when I moved here in 2000. Truth be told, I was in love with Boston for several years before I actually dared make my move, so our romance has been raging for at least 10 years now. I don’t see why it can’t continue for the rest of our lives. Boston and me and our lifelong affair. It’s a storybook love, I tell you, doesn’t matter where I hang my hat.
I’ve lived in a lot of cities and each one had its charm, but there is definitely something unique about Boston. It’s that disarming juxtaposition of old and new, mingling together, sometimes clashing, sometimes complimenting, but always arresting. These centuries-old buildings and streets, packed with history and meaning, seeped in tradition, coexisting right next to Dunkin Donuts, Urban Outfitters and Crate and Barrel. All the people who’ve walked the places I walked, all the years between us. So much has changed, but the city holds on tight to her past and she won’t let go easily. The neighborhoods, brimming with the old-world English, the Irish and the Italians, all clinging to their heritage, resisting the newcomers and the looming future. Graveyards with their famous inhabitants, nestled and resting snugly between sky scraping offices filled with computers, cell phones, and white shiny teeth. The ocean so close, cold bitter unforgiving Atlantic, the spurned and lonely sister to warm, bubbly Pacific.
Around here, people are miserable, because that’s what this city was built on. Misery. People working together in their misery, despite their misery, just to get by. This is a lifestyle I can understand. This is a lifestyle I can get behind. I wasn’t cut from the cloth of happiness and contentment.
I love where I was born, I love where I was raised, they will always have a connection to me, but I didn’t choose those places. I chose Boston and Boston chose me. This is where I made my home, this is where I made my son, and it’s as much a part of me as anyone else and everywhere else.
I love Boston. I always have, I always will. I forget sometimes, what this city means to me. It’s nice to remember.
