I’m moving out of Denver and feel sick I’m 28 and have…
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I’m moving out of Denver and feel sick
I’m 28 and have lived in Denver for about four years. I’m about to move to Salem, Massachusetts, somewhere I’ve wanted to live for a long time. I thought I’d feel more ready by now. Instead, I keep catching myself looking at Denver like I’m already visiting it.
I’m noticing the light more. How much sky there is above everything. The mountains sitting behind an intersection where people are just waiting for the light to change. There’s something about having that much beauty in the background of an ordinary errand. You still have to buy groceries and answer emails, and there they are.
I wonder how long I’ll keep looking west out of habit.
I love the sunshine here. I love how a cold day can still have an afternoon you want to step outside into. I love the vast crowd of people my age. I love having the mountains to disappear into for a while and a city to come back to. Concerts, comedy, games, different neighborhoods. Even when I stay home, I like knowing there’s a whole evening happening somewhere beyond my apartment.
And I love my apartment. The view, the familiarity, knowing how the light moves through it. It’s strange how attached you can become to the setting of your everyday life. You spend years walking through the same door with your mind on something else, and then suddenly you’re thinking about the last time you’ll close it.
New England has been in my head for years. The old houses, the coast, walkable streets and bookstores, the feeling of autumn settling into a town. Halloween means a lot to me. So does reading and writing, and I’ve always imagined feeling inspired there. I still want to find out what that life could be like.
But now I’m wondering how I’ll handle the quieter pace, the winter, the higher expenses. Whether I’ve imagined October in enough detail to overlook the rest of the year. Whether I’ll get there and spend my afternoons missing the light in a room I willingly left.
The plan is to give it a year. I know I can come back, and I’m trying to let that be reassuring. I just hadn’t expected following through on something I wanted to feel this much like losing something.
Denver has become the place where I know what an ordinary day feels like. I think that’s what’s getting to me. I’ve spent so much time imagining waking up somewhere else, and now I’m paying attention to what it feels like to wake up here.
Has anyone else had a similar experience leaving Denver, especially for somewhere you’d wanted to live for years? Did the sadness ease once you settled in, or did the distance make you realize you wanted to come back?
#local
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I’m 28 and have lived in Denver for about four years. I’m about to move to Salem, Massachusetts, somewhere I’ve wanted to live for a long time. I thought I’d feel more ready by now. Instead, I keep catching myself looking at Denver like I’m already visiting it.
I’m noticing the light more. How much sky there is above everything. The mountains sitting behind an intersection where people are just waiting for the light to change. There’s something about having that much beauty in the background of an ordinary errand. You still have to buy groceries and answer emails, and there they are.
I wonder how long I’ll keep looking west out of habit.
I love the sunshine here. I love how a cold day can still have an afternoon you want to step outside into. I love the vast crowd of people my age. I love having the mountains to disappear into for a while and a city to come back to. Concerts, comedy, games, different neighborhoods. Even when I stay home, I like knowing there’s a whole evening happening somewhere beyond my apartment.
And I love my apartment. The view, the familiarity, knowing how the light moves through it. It’s strange how attached you can become to the setting of your everyday life. You spend years walking through the same door with your mind on something else, and then suddenly you’re thinking about the last time you’ll close it.
New England has been in my head for years. The old houses, the coast, walkable streets and bookstores, the feeling of autumn settling into a town. Halloween means a lot to me. So does reading and writing, and I’ve always imagined feeling inspired there. I still want to find out what that life could be like.
But now I’m wondering how I’ll handle the quieter pace, the winter, the higher expenses. Whether I’ve imagined October in enough detail to overlook the rest of the year. Whether I’ll get there and spend my afternoons missing the light in a room I willingly left.
The plan is to give it a year. I know I can come back, and I’m trying to let that be reassuring. I just hadn’t expected following through on something I wanted to feel this much like losing something.
Denver has become the place where I know what an ordinary day feels like. I think that’s what’s getting to me. I’ve spent so much time imagining waking up somewhere else, and now I’m paying attention to what it feels like to wake up here.
Has anyone else had a similar experience leaving Denver, especially for somewhere you’d wanted to live for years? Did the sadness ease once you settled in, or did the distance make you realize you wanted to come back?
#local
source
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