Spring is like a dream. I mean, there are flowers everywhere. It’s important to savor it because in Utah, it isn’t long before all of the green of life blooming around us turns to brown. Dead, dried, flammable brown.
On a walk Saturday night, Drew and I slowly strolled, enjoying the just-right temperature and cracked, uneven sidewalks. It used to be that a trip around this city would bring back a flood of memories into my mind. Every street sign, park or neighborhood had a story to tell about nights spent years ago with someone I don’t keep in contact with anymore. It used to make me sad. I felt like it had all gone to waste for some reason. But I realized as we walked that I had somehow passed that feeling up. It didn’t feel like I was walking through memories anymore. I doubt this will make sense to anyone. But it felt like I had been living like this, in the one bedroom next to a convenience store, taking walks and talking about the future with a husband named Drew my whole entire life.
I studied blossoming trees, city buildings and old charming houses with well-manicured lawns. It’s hard to decide if this is a good or bad thing, but I wouldn’t mind it if I never lived anywhere else.