6/12: Somebody That I Used to Know

Now that we’re both vaccinated and ready for a change of scenery, my husband and I packed up a month’s worth of necessities four ourselves and our cat, boarded a plane, and are now in Boise to work remotely through mid-July.

When people ask me where I’m from, I don’t quite know what the “right” answer is. I was born and raised in Houston, and my family moved to Boise the summer before I started 9th grade, so “Houston and Boise” is my stock answer.

Boise is a popular place for people to move now, and it makes sense. As a place that has all four seasons and lots of outdoor activities, families move here from bigger cities in search of a slower pace; hence, our family moving here in 1996.

My high school and post-college years were spent here, and there are lots of memories I associate with Boise. Some good, some bad. But like I told a friend recently, Boise just reminds me of all the mistakes I’ve made in my life.

Just like you can never go home again, Boise feels like the name of the Gotye song and title of this post.

I took my husband to Boise for the first time in 2015, and he liked it right away. He grew up in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and I suspect he likes Boise because it reminds him of where he grew up. He’s growing wary of the long, hot Austin summers, and if he could live in Boise, I think he would. But he’s well aware of my feelings on the matter and he knows that I don’t want to move back, at least while we’re both still working.

There’s a real sense of “been there, done that” with Boise, and my husband knows I’d rather be in a bigger city than Austin if it made sense (Los Angeles is my top choice). I told him that we could retire in Boise, and that honestly sounds like a good plan to me. It’s 20 years out, and I have until then to fight the ghosts and demons that follow me around when we’re in Boise.

But time truly does heal most things, and the years have been good for me. Seeing old friends I went to high school with here—friends who also don’t live here anymore, but are also visiting—reinforces the feelings I have about Boise. It’s a place we know well, but when the associations aren’t as strong as they used to be, it’s easier to appreciate it for what it is.

Boise is like somebody that I used to know: I recognize it, I know it well, but time and distance means we’ve gone separate directions. It’s like an old friend you can meet up with after years and years, and you can just pick right up where you both left off.

You’re different enough where you live in different places that suit each of you, but when you get together, it’s just like old times.

I’ve grown and so has Boise, over 1,600 miles apart.

And that feels great.