Sorry I’m turning into the kind of blogger that barely blogs anymore and then has apology posts about not writing. I used to be good at sorting through my thoughts by forming them into complete sentences, but lately I’ve just been getting better at living with the jumble in my head.
I’m three weeks from moving away from yet another place that’s now my home. You’d think that someone who has moved so many goddamn times in her life would be better at leaving, but really I’m just good at packing efficiently and not thinking too hard. So I’ve stopped writing, and instead, I go on runs or bake or practice my oboe. It’s sort of like I’m 17 again, except I turn 22 soon.
So here’s what I’m thinking: I started liking Fairbanks the way most romantic comedy heroines usually do– with a fierce determination not to. When you move around a lot, you try to see everything through the cold, calculating eyes of someone who’s going to have to show up somewhere else with enough of a real smile to make new friends soon. It’s one thing to miss brief friendships, but it’s altogether another thing to expend emotions missing cities and towns.
Anyway, here we are at the end of the movie, and everyone saw this grand, meaningful run-through-the-airport love declaration coming but me.
Something about Fairbanks just clicks with me. Maybe it’s the deep aversion to superficiality, or the small town community that manages to live and let live, or the dancing lights in the sky on long winter nights. But it’s something, and I’m going to be sorry to leave it all behind.