Easton, I Love You. Boston, I Love You Not.
by Kait Wheeler on July 9th, 2009
filed under Updates
It’s been a depressingly long time since I’ve written anything truly worth reading, though I can tell you, it’s not for lack of trying. I’ve tried to sit down and write rants, updates, and even fictional stories, none of which I could finish. Either that, or the entry gets eaten by Internet Explorer (and I’ll be damned if I let that happen again). This update, I fear, isn’t going to be about backpacks or Rock Band, Obama, or the Michael Jackson Funeral Bonanza that was on TV Tuesday. It’s about what’s going on in my life, and I hope that anyone reading this will learn something from it.
For a long time now, I’ve realized that my current residence has been drastically unsatisfying. When I originally moved to Boston, I was promised adventures out to meet new people, and events, and all sorts of fun things. Things that normally, I would never do all by myself (the prospect literally makes me lightheaded) and, after living here for two and a half years, I’ve decided that I’ve reached the end of my ‘Tour de Boston’. I’ve made friends and lost them, I’ve been betrayed and used and insulted behind my back. It’s everything I thought I was moving away from…but instead it seems it followed me. Not only that, but I feel as though I have lost, perhaps forever, the one person (family excluded) that was the closest that anyone could have been to me. It is because of this that I think returning to my home is necessary.
I was born and raised in the same city. I’ve never lived anywhere else until I moved here when I was 22 years old. I felt like I was moving to another planet, and I’ll be damned if I know how I managed to get where I am. My apartment (albeit a shitty one) is all mine, I have cats, and an amazing (sometimes) job. But I feel as though I have lost all my strength. Never have I felt this low, this sad. I don’t have the energy to clean, or play, or do anything. I realize how pathetic it sounds. And truly, it really is quite disgusting. Obviously, that’s why I’m working to change that.
The real questions now that I face now is “Was it all worth it?” The answer? Hell yes. Despite the bad experiences and heartbreaks, I’ve learned a hell of a lot about love, friendships, trust, honesty, culture, and the business world. Coming back home, my resume is going to kick corporate ass, and there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that I’ve grown substantially. Of course I regret leaving my best friends behind; but they, like all true friends, are literally hopping up and down anxiously awaiting my return. Right now that, and the support of my family is about all I have to keep me going. They’re the ones that are giving me the will to get up in the morning and get on the filthy disease ridden bus and come to work.
I think I read somewhere that you have to make yourself happy before anyone else can, and that is absolutely true. Despite it all, I still think I did the right thing by coming to Boston. I learned a lot about myself, and the people around me, and who my true friends were. Regretably, there is one specific person that I’m going to miss, but she can bet her ass that as soon as I get a new car, I’ll be taking a trip to New Hampshire. 
I’m really excited beyond belief to be coming home. I’ve had my heart broken by someone who I thought was my best friend, and someone who I thought was the love of my life (and in my eyes, still may have been). I so desperately need to recharge, and when you’ve lived and prospered in one place for your whole life, you kind of feel like it’s the one place in the world that you feel most at home at.
Switching topics, the biggest regret that I have about my time here in Boston is Isaac. I know now that deep in my heart, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him. I made him choose, and it wasn’t right. The pain I felt in my heart was so acute, that I thought I couldn’t be with him as long as we were so far apart. But then I realized that being without him hurt even more. Jesus Christ did I fuck up. I admit herewith in front of the entire internets that I was a fucking moron when it came to that situation…but now I’m starting to think that it might have been for the best.
From then up until recently, we’ve been talking here and there. Idle chatter, and then recently, a few serious discussions. I told him how I felt, admitted I was wrong, blah blah blah. And then something strange happened. I’ve always told anyone that I’ve truly loved that all I want is for them to be happy. To me, that’s what love really is. You want (more than anything) to see the person that you love to be as blissfully happy as possible. Think about it. If everyone followed that rule, then true love would be unfathomably unstoppable. But apparently, people don’t believe me when I tell them that. They assume that strings are attached, or I only want that if it means I’m with them or I’m gaining something from it.
I think knowing that fact has hurt me more than any insult or fat joke anyone has ever thrown at me. To know me for so long, and think that the only thing I wanted was something for myself, or that I was lying crushes me. I truthfully don’t know what to think or feel about the situation anymore. I can’t help how my heart feels, and I can’t help but wonder if the words and actions (or…should I say lack of actions) were done unintentionally. I brought up the possibility of just leaving him alone and disappearing. Since we’re hundreds of miles away, it wouldn’t be hard. From what it seemed, he didn’t like that prospect, but then…I haven’t spoken to him for four days and it seems like I’m the only one that’s bothered by it. Sometimes I wish people would just tell me the truth and spare the possibility of ‘hurting my feelings’…even though lying hurts even more. To me, stretching it out just ends up stressing both people out, and ends up hurting both even more. I guess I’ll never understand why people can’t just tell me the truth.
I know there’s only like, two people that read this blog with any sort of regularity, so I’m not really concerned with what I’ve said. If you’re insulted, maybe you deserve to be. But it wasn’t my intention. If you want to talk, fucking do it. I’m tired of waiting on pins and needles.
Now…back to Sally’s Salon. I’ve lost three customers and god dammit I’m pissed.