Houston: A Love Letter

That is…to an abusive lover..

I think I was about 9 or 10 when my aunt told me she was moving to Conroe, Texas. I wrote in my diary that I was fine with her moving to “Con Row” because I thought it was just a street in Waco, Texas. Nope. But her move to Conroe brought about many happy summers for me as I went to visit her for a week every year. I remember bits and pieces of my experience in Conroe growing up, like how the streets always looked so weirdly wide compared to my hometown. Or the Incredible Pizza we went to as a tradition. I had no idea that I would find myself settled in the exact area I grew up in. It was beyond weird to drive the wide roads myself as a grown adult, work at the kroger next to my favorite Incredible Pizza, and occasionally pass by my aunts old neighborhood. It’s even more strange to think that I was wandering around the area at the same time as the people I know now, we just didn’t know each other then. But such is life, and fate, and all that good stuff.

So, Houston.

I’ve been in the shadows of your monstrosity of a city for about 5 years now. I came in a bright eyed, innocent teenager ready to pave her own way and become a theatre teacher. I am now a broke, slightly bitter, weathered 22 year old with the odd desire to become president. That’s a story for another day.

It seems that most of my time here has been filled with tragedy after tragedy. Losing great friends, losing boyfriends, leaving college, becoming broke, leaving real estate, feeling the failure, feeling alone, losing my Raider, trying desperately to find my soul mate and failing. Over and over and over again. They ask me why I’m leaving…this is why.

But even though I’ve set it in my heart to leave this abusive life, I still find reasons to stay. If you’ve ever driven 45 south to Midtown, you might understand the relief that comes with the first glimpses of skyscrapers. I’m always in awe as they grow taller and closer. Especially at night. And the trees of The Woodlands…how I love pine trees. We don’t get them down south. All my life I thought the hill country was the prettiest part of Texas, until I saw my forest. Everything else seems dull in comparison. Or the way everyone fearlessly goes 80+ on 45 (which is 60mph/65mph depending on where you are) with the attitude that they can’t catch all of us. They try….lord, do they try…I’ve never seen so many cops poised daily to attack. My heart soars when I get good music on and can punch the gas pedal. I love to fly down the highway. You just can’t get that in suburbia! The weather is also kind of awesome. We get more of a chance for snow than down south. Colder weather, more exciting weather, lots of rain, again…you just don’t get this where I come from.

The part I will miss the most, though, is the people I’ve met in the worst times and great times. I look around my jobs, with their quirky and beautiful people, and I can’t even imagine living without them. How do I leave? (nod to The Office) Show me the tree that my favorite people grow on. I want it.

Houston, you abusive asshole. You keep drawing me back in when I try to get away. For half a year I’ve gone back and forth, and when I finally make up my mind, I’m even more distraught. I love you, Houston.


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