Title from an old song about a leaving various things in a really ugly way that burns bridges, which is exactly what comes to my mind after my recent trip to D.C. It’s been a really, really long time since I was there, as all the people I cared to visit have drifted away, and my weight climbed up, and the thought of going back was too embarrassing. I’d love to say that’s not really a factor, but let’s be honest – no one wants to go visit their old haunts and imagine running into an ex or a frenemy unless they look fantastic and are kicking ass at life.

That aside, though, I hadn’t seen a particular friend in a long time and we still keep in touch. He had a health scare, and a singer we both love was coming to town, so it seemed like it was time for a visit. Plus he’s seen me at all weights and sizes and it’s not that I have no fear of his judgement I just don’t care. That’s the true standard of loving someone – I no longer care what you think of me. 🙂

So I thought what would be super fun would be to go back and revisit some of the places I used to live/hang out in….starting with the campus of where I went to college. I was excited to see the changes and thought it would be a fun walk down memory lane and it….was…not. Actually all I felt was overwhelming sadness, tinged with a little anger and bitterness. I was sad for the 18-year-old girl who felt so full of promise and hope, the one who struggled so hard, the one who learned a lot of valuable life lessons later than she should have, and some frustration because I feel like I can only ever remember the bad times, not just in that place but everywhere, even though I know there must have been good times too.

It’s a loss, too, of the idea of returning to the area in general, because it’s occasionally cropped up that “I could go back,” maybe to Boston, maybe to D.C., but being there is a sharp reminder that everything is different. It’s one thing to “know” that, intellectually, and yet another thing to be slapped across the face with it when familiar streets and landmarks are strangers. All the people I knew are moved out, moved on, the places I used to live are torn down and rebuilt and renovated, even the place I used to work is gone.

I remember when I was debating the move to Texas, leaving the friend I visited was so hard…but then he got a girlfriend and I felt shuffled off to the side. She didn’t last, but it made me realize that someday, we would not be the most important people in each other’s lives, and that was the final push that let me go. And he’s happy in his marriage and his kids but it was weird to see that person as the same as my friend who used to get wasted with me on the weekends.

It was a huge relief to get home, back to my own life and my own space and stop living in the past. I’ll probably go back to D.C. again at some point, but with much lower expectations (and no planned trips to visit old haunts, it’s all Smithsonian Museums for me from here on out!)