BIG NOWHERE

My move was around the turn of the big century. The one-horse town I knew and loved, grew up in and cherished at one time, had gotten rid of its one horse. There was no more inner growth to be had. There was only the future, shrinking in front of me. So, I made the move. Seemed to make sense at the time.

It was difficult at first. Of course. Starting over appeared to be a glamorous prospect. I could tell when I’d tell someone back home that I was getting out, they were jealous. I could see it in their eyes and hear it in their voice. But now that the game was on, it scared me. Apart from a few friends in the larger-than-life city, I had no one but myself. Men’s boarding houses, studio apartments, cars – these were options that I’d taken as a home at one time or another.

I kept in touch with some from back home, sending the occasional email or calling from strange area codes, telling everyone I talked to that I was thriving beyond my means. Life from my end had purpose at last. My successes were always told in a more grand scale than what they actually were. Happiness was a sheet I pulled from over my head. This life away wasn’t exactly failure, but it wasn’t too far from it.

Sadly, this was all a lie. I never moved away in the first place. I stayed in the town I grew up in. I just went through a lot of trouble to make it appear that I’d left for good, occasionally popping in at Christmas with stories of foreign adventures and fake news of girlfriends I never had. Elaborate? Maybe. But this life seemed to make sense at the time.

Now, in a far-flung suburb of my hometown, I just hope no one I know reads this and finds out the truth. I could never explain it or live it down.




-SLL