D & I used to plan to move to Eugene.
Like most of our plans, I mean this loosely– we used to dream, or I used to dream. We (I) based this dream off of hearing it would be the kind of place we would fit in–
& now I have evidence. P & I walked down the train tracks there on Sunday before the wedding we drove to Oregon to attend. We drank coffee & ate donuts & talked about how we felt about this city vs. Portland vs. Boise–
We talked for hours this weekend, stuck in a car together. I have never enjoyed a road trip as much–
Somewhere around Hood River, past lovers came up. Perhaps what we’ve learned, but more that both of us would have married past loves & that at the time, we would have meant it. Of course we’re glad it didn’t turn out that way, but in this narrative, walking across Eugene with P felt like a potent symbol–
I don’t think I’d want to live in Eugene anymore. I think I live in a state of action, where I conceive of myself so differently than I did last year–
I’m not sure if my current-self is right, but that matter less. This past-self that I miss was idealistic, & political, & believed that certain things were right & could execute this righteousness even if it were merely a smokescreen over still wanting to feel secure, & loved, worth commitment–
Will my life still be shaped by my past ideals, even if I give them up?