Toward moving on toward moving out
Last night I met up with a few old friends because one of them was headed to Atlanta, GA. She lived there for a few years, moved back to PA to take care of her dying mother, and finally decided she needed to return to the place she really needed to be. A good move, I thought. I wish I were ready to do the same.
About 8 years ago I made the "bold" [sic] move of approximately 20 miles from the town where I grew up to Harrisburg, and for some reason, I haven't left. I'm changed apartments and traded one H-burg suburb for another, but the move I would love to make (to NYC) I haven't yet. Last night, however, for the first time in these past 8 years, I realized that I need to start making some progress in that direction.
There are two things that keep me where I am. The first is money, or lack there of, the second is friends. The former is something that I just need to be wise about. I am riddled with debt & I would prefer a change to a real city not be hampered by lack of resources. It has been difficult at times to make ends meet while living in a relatively low cost area, that a move to NYC, I would be afraid, would cause me to come home with my tail between my legs after a only few scant months due to abject poverty. The latter issue, friends, I noticed last night will no longer be an excuse.
The going away party had the smallest draw I'd ever seen of my circle of friends. There was Bonnie, the one who was leaving for Georgie, Jill, Steve, Cliff, Julie & Me. Bonnie, I'm certain I will never see again. People will always say, "yeah, I'll see you again," but it usually isn't true, and in this case I knew it wasn't. Frankly, it just doesn't matter to either one of us. Steve is the manager of the bookstore where Bonnie worked. He was once my manager as well (until I left for a promotion at another store), but I only ever see him at these kinds of functions or in passing, so it's clear that there is no kinship there. Cliff is his fellow, so there is even less of an attachment there. Julie only stayed briefly because she is my girlfriend and felt out of place. If she and I stay together, which is very likely, I don't have to worry about leaving her behind. Jill, is the only one of last night's group that I would miss. And I would miss her a lot.
Jill left the bookstore in order to allow herself a little free time. She is an oboeist and teaches at 4 local colleges, has young students she tutors at home, and plays often for many local orchestras. Jill is one of my dearest friends, but I rarely see her these days. I actually see my friends in NYC more often than her. She is so busy that I already feel like she has moved away. I would miss Jill if I moved, but I already miss her, so there isn't really much difference there.
There are a handful of other local friends I would miss as well, Darrell, Sha-Sha, Coleen, Steve & Diana, Maryanne, Mary Ann, Dan, Brian, Bert, Jim, Jim, Carla, Donna, Eric, Adam, Marty, and others. Every one of them I would love to see again like I did in the old times, where we would all meet on a Friday night at a bar and just have a blast. I only ever see Darrell these days though, and not even as much of him as I used to. For the first time in a long time he has a group of friends that I have never met. It used to be that he would go out occasionally with some people he worked with, but there was only one, maybe two that he considered to be friends and didn't see them much, but he spends more time with them these days. That's a good thing. I'm glad we can stay such good friends even though I can see myself seeing much less of him if I move.
The others I see so rarely anymore that I feel worse for actually living here but never getting together with them. There's a guilt that is mine, theirs and ours from close friends letting seasons go by without a call or a visit. So many of them seem to be such a part of the past that I'm almost afraid to call them anymore.
I'm sure I would make an effort to see at least of few of them on a trip home for the holidays or a summer vacation. They would have my number and would visit me if I were in the area. No matter what the truth behind all of this, it's only down to money now. That's something that I have begun to take seriously for the first time in my life. I think it's time to lay the groundwork toward moving on, and soon toward moving out.
posted by Tim @ 10/18/2004 01:50:00 PM
2 Comments:
I like to call this phenomenon "the dearth of friends". It's hard to hold on. Heck, I didn't even make your list. Then again, you probably wouldn't have made mine. But that's because you're the jerk, not me.
Seriously though, is it because we're getting older?, loosing touch? is it because people grow apart? is it because the pubs loose their appeal? how many friends do your parents have? Did those lonely old men who shuffle down the street in ill fitting clothes and baseball hats sitting way too high on their heads once have a large, loving gang of regulars. Do they think about them constantly as their hands tremle from palsy medication and their jaws unconsciously chew with the teeth they haven't had for twenty years? Do they think "man, I wish I would have kept playing D&D or that I wouldn't have let that tart's opinion of my friends interfere"?
How many times do you say "we should get together" until you just switch to "hey, how's it going?" until you finally reach the point where you consciously dodge out of sight?
I would have mentioned you if I liked you, but you're a fucking fuck, after all. It's not your fault. Your parents should have given you a lobotomy when you were a baby.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
No seriously, I love you, MFF, and I'm sorry I didn't put you in the list. We'll have to get together more often now that I have your phone numbness and your address.
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