Longing

Today I am missing St. Louis so much that it hurts.  You know that literal, tangible feeling of emptiness and longing that you get inside when you are overcome with powerful emotions?  Maybe you don't, but I do.  I feel like my emotions and my physical state of being are abnormally connected.  Especially when sorrow is involved.  Depression is a physical feeling, and I don't think that's just me talking.  But, don't worry, I wouldn't go so far as to say that I am incredibly depressed right now, I'm just melancholy and longing.  Do you ever get that way?  Longing for things that once were?  During my first years of teaching I felt that way about the carefree joy of living with my girlfriends and flirting and partying and having fun during college, but now those days seem so far gone that they are just a happy, distant memory.  I suppose our time in St. Louis will be the same way eventually, but for now those memories are recent, fresh, and raw.

I miss it.  I miss our neighborhood.  I miss the food.  I miss our crappy apartment with the charming lobby, terrifying elevator, crowne moldings, and fabulous views.  I miss taking walks around the neighborhood with my boys just to look at the lovely old architecture of the homes---and possibly to talk ourselves into stopping at one of the restaurants or cafes for a bite to eat.  I miss Forest Park.  I miss Demun Playground.  I miss the Thomas' pool and their doting love and affection, as well as Jane's listening ear.  I miss running into my adorable aunt and her jumpy poodle, Charlotte, in our neighborhood, both of whom Callum adored and who spoiled us rotten.  I miss the amazing children's museum and its affordable membership.  I miss the incredible zoo that was free to all and only a five minute drive from our home.  Most of all, I miss my friends.  I miss "nap parties."  I miss watching our kids play together.  I miss crafting together.  I miss late nights laughing and talking about nothing.  I miss our outings that we took every. single. day.  I miss going to church and being surrounded by friends my age in my exact stage of life.  Those girls got me through some rough times, and I hope that I did the same for them.  We all grew together and really became genuine grown-ups together.  We all became moms together and helped one another figure it out.

There is nothing wrong with where I am at now.  I am living in my dad's beautiful, large home, rent free.  We are borrowing his second car, so we no longer have to share our Civic.  The weather here is so amazing compared to the Midwest.  I am finally pregnant again.  I have old friends, a few new friends, and, most importantly, family here.  But it's not the same.  It's a new stage of life.  A new chapter.  Maybe even a new book in the series.  And I, for one, am someone who never wants a good book to end.  I always long to go back into the pages, and so I just reread them again and again.  If only you could do that with the happiest stages of your life . . .