I left home and didn’t look back. Everyone here said they hated it anyways, so I assumed it was just a matter of time until that was me. I absolutely couldn’t wait to leave! Then, the craziest thing happened, I actually left.
The first few months I was gone was an array of emotions. I would love my big city one day and hate it the next. Now, several months later, I have come to the conclusion that unless you were born into a big city, big cities are truly only fun to visit (at least for me). Let me explain why.
I used to be able to drive up in the hills, crank up my music, and maybe cry a little when I was having a bad day. No one thought anything of it and it gave me a piece of mind to just sit on 4 Mile Hill and admire my little city and all the crazy people in it. If I do that in the city, I’m absolutely nuts and someone is more than likely going to call the cops.
I used to drive into town and see at least three people that I could stop and bullshit with. I knew what cars my friends of my friends of my friends drove and if no one else was to be found, I could stop and talk to them for a while as if we were already best friends. Now, in my big city, I see thousands of people everyday that I will never know and I will more than likely never care about – that makes me feel awful.
When I used to go to the store, I thought the cashiers were rude. Then, I went to my big city and found out what the definition of rude was and I began to appreciate the manners of not only the cashiers in my small town, but everyone in my small town!
Now, here’s my final and favorite reason I miss my small town. I used to buy clothes from Buckle when I made the dreaded drive to Salt Lake. When I went back to my small town, those clothes were considered “high class.” When I wear my Buckle clothing in the big city, people ask me why I look like I’m going to a rodeo (I’m not even joking, this really happened to me.) I also showed one of my friends a prom dress of mine and she said I should have wore it to a quinceanera; however, I thought my dress was one of the prettiest dresses there and I adored it because I guess we were all wearing quinceanera dresses.
So, my point is, don’t dread your small town so much. I’m sitting here in my old bedroom regretting everything about this place that I took for granted, from the beautiful mountains to the way the people wave when you drive down the street. This place is my home and I don’t think I’ll ever love another place again.