I am a big city girl and I am annoyed by Ohio.
I know, I know... if I am so annoyed why don't I just get the hell out of here and go home?
Really, grad school is the only thing that's keeping me here. I mean, the friends I've met here (several of them) will probably remain my friends for the rest of my life, but I met all of them in my grad program. Anything outside of graduate school, I kind of despise.
It's not all that bad, really. I am enjoying my life, for the most part, and trying not to let the mediocrity of sleepy gray skies of the Midwestern suburbia drag me down into this cloudy abyss of blah-ness. The stale nervousness of the Ohio river, the crowd-less muddy river banks with concrete vastness of baseball stadiums, the empty streets of downtown steel and glass towers... they're all so uninspiring, so trying to be something they're not, so mocking in their mere presence.
It's like that movie I saw a few months ago where three people go to hell. But it's no ordinary hell, it's hell for people who committed suicides. So this hell has no burning fire or little horned devils running around poking sinners with their sharp pitchforks. No, this hell is just like our world... except just a little worse. This hell is just like a Midwestern town, where everyone is content living in their mediocre existence, driving their 4x4 pick-up trucks, wearing faded flannel shirts and watching public television.
All of this, strangely, makes me think of him. My former love(r) who I think of from time to time, for no apparent reason at all. The guy with an amazingly big heart, and many tiny little very over-lookable flaws that made him more endearing than irritating to me; the guy who was amazing in bed without ever being arrogant and conceited about it; the guy who, I knew, felt that I was something special.
I kind of have a feeling he's married now... and I kind of wish him all the best, with a hint of sadness remaining in my heart for all the things that could have been, but never were.
We were younger back than, but I remember the girl I used to be a few years ago and I still find many traces of her in my present self. I remember the guy he used to be and I wonder if he is still the same lovable cutie who made feel damn special and smart and wanted, without ever being in a relationship with me.
Our sunsets and sunrises were just a little brighter back then, my pillows were just a little softer when I woke up next to him, and my favorite moment of all time is still that time he, out of nowhere, pulled his car over to the side of the road just to kiss my hand and tell me how great I was.
I was never angry, never jealous, never annoyed. And maybe just a little bit infatuated with the simplicity and passion we shared with each other for a number of years.
Somehow, I am convinced that this kind of guy is simply nonexistent in the Midwest. I can't wait to move away, move somewhere. Anywhere but here.
p.s. I also just found out that the guy who broke my heart last year proposed to his current girlfriend three weeks ago. I would say, "When it rains, it pours" but, frankly, I don't care enough any more to be bothered by the news for more than a few minutes. Cheers to the happy couple.