Dear Boston – I Need Some Space

Dear Boston,

It’s over – I’m leaving you for another city. You’re a great place and we have a lot in common. But I’ve been visiting other cities – and I’ve discovered that my heart belongs to San Francisco.

You’re just too moody and unpredictable for me. When I’m with you in June, you’re all warm and sunny and invite me to do things like go biking along the Charles River and take trips to the beach. Everything’s wonderful and carefree.

July rolls around and our torrid affair grows hotter and the situation gets unbearably sticky. I find myself avoiding you during the daytime and actually choose to stay in an air-conditioned office rather than have to face you.

September arrives and you try to make it up to me with me beautifully colored falling leaves that dance from the sky while I sip hot cider and get in the spirit for Halloween. I start to feel that magical spark again and look forward to snuggling under the covers.

Then you slowly start to grow colder and colder. Our embraces in the sunshine are far less frequent. I’m perplexed and I don’t know what I did to deserve this kind of behavior.

In December, things are almost tolerable because of all the holiday cheer. I tell myself that I’ll just put on a happy face (and a heavy sweater) and get through the holidays.

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But then January is like an arctic punch in the face. You’re mercilessly cold and even though I’m usually an active outdoorsy person who likes to spend weekends walking, biking or rollerblading, I’m transformed into a pathetic couch potato who doesn’t want to venture more than a half block from her apartment.

It’s bad enough you throw stormy temper tantrums, but to add insult to injury, I have to clean up your mess. Then I have to tiptoe around your icy streets for fear you might sprain my ankle like you did last year.

This goes on for months and months and I don’t think I can take it anymore. I long for things to go back to how they used to be, when you would hold me in your warm embrace and inspire me to frolic in the sunshine.

You keep running hot and cold and giving me mixed signals. It’s like living with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Then one day, you start to come around and start acting more like your old self, the one I know and love. It lasts for a few days and I start to relax and think I’d misjudged you. Maybe you’re just sensitive and misunderstood and I have to learn how to handle you and your temperamental moods.

We have a lovely spring filled with walks along the Charles River and sipping margaritas on the patio. You’ve won my heart back. I’ve forgiven you for the brutal punches of winter. Then the vicious cycle starts all over again.

I’ve talked to friends that tell me that I deserve better. They say I shouldn’t trust you. Once you’ve smacked me around your brutal winds and stormy tantrums that I spend days recovering from, you’ll just do it again and again. They tell me that no matter how many flowers you bring me in the spring, you’ll just keep mistreating me again when winter rolls around.

I have friends in California who show me pictures of themselves smiling and doing  outdoorsy activities all year long. They have the freedom to do as they please and they don’t have to put on four layers of wool and a ski jacket before leaving the house in the morning.

Boston, you’re a great city with a lot of great qualities. We’ve shared a lot of good times. But, now I just need some space – 3,000 miles of it.

Yours fondly,

The Moving Muse

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