Oh, Yeah, I Almost Moved to Erie

So, somewhere in the midst of my sparse blogging, I may or may not have mentioned that Paul finally found a job a few months ago, where he used to intern when we first met and the following summer. He thinks he hates his job and that’s probably true, but it’s a start, and one day we’ll both be rich writers anyway, so it won’t matter.

But before he landed that gig, he started applying all over the place. The plan was if he got a job far away, I’d move out there with him as soon as my lease was up. His dad once told him never to believe a woman who said she’d follow him, but I’m not just any woman, and we both know that and we both know I would’ve gone, both to be with him but also for myself. Why say no to a new opportunity? Some may see it as blindly following a man–hell, that’s exactly what it sounds like–but I would’ve gone for more reasons than just to be with him. Besides, he’s worth following and I’m worth decisions that will make me happy.

He had an interview in Erie, which seemed pretty promising, but his current employer happened to offer him a job before he heard back, but he didn’t get the Erie job anyway. I’m not sure–still, nearly three months later–if I’m happy or disappointed, and I don’t think he is, either, even though he said he probably would’ve hated that job, too.

The only thing I am definitely happy about is the fact that I don’t actually have to go through the process of moving. I already packed up all my shit and moved twice last year. One of my New Year’s resolutions was to move fewer times this year, so I would’ve still be in the clear for that, but still. Brandon would’ve strangled me if he had to haul boxes of my stuff back and forth again, and my parents would’ve held me down for him.

Oh, and I’m definitely happy about still being close to Pittsburgh because I really do love Pittsburgh. Plus Pittsburgh has arts and culture and music and really, what are the chances I would’ve been able to see Fleetwood Mac in Erie or go to a ballet or the symphony on a weekend because I feel like it?

At the same time, I think Paul and I both have a desire to leave here. The Angel Ladies told me they don’t see me staying here–I’m here now because I’m just starting out, but they said they don’t see this as my home. I think we both have a bit of wanderlust, but I think we also both just want to escape. Maybe for different reasons, but I think we both envision life as being better elsewhere not because of location itself but because moving is an automatic fresh start.

The thought of moving was extremely liberating, and I realized that had I moved, I would’ve been running. I openly acknowledge and admit this, whether or not it was apparent from the start.

I had a shitty year last year, probably one of the shittiest I’ve had in a long while, and I don’t think anyone’s gonna really try to dispute that. It’s pretty clear. The evidence is everywhere. I left it in my wake, perhaps recklessly. Keeping in mind this was before some things out, what was the most attractive possibility to me? Leaving. Like I said, fresh start–leave everything behind, go to a new place, create a new life, meet new people, be who I want to be. The possibilities, as they say, are endless. It’s true, or at least seems true when you have an entire unexplored place in front of you.

We kept talking about it like it was definitely going to happen. You’d think we’d learned our lesson after the US Steel Illinois training-for-three-months-at-a-time-for-a-year fiasco, especially since that was the closest we’ve ever come to breaking up, but nope.

I still think we need to leave at some point–make some money, maybe get married, and just go. Do something on our own, for ourselves, say fuck it and create whatever life we want for ourselves without a place full of our pasts.

Maybe we’re trapped. Maybe that’s our problem.

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