My Old Heart

I don't doubt that I have made it very apparent that I don't care too much for Utah. Sure, the state is beautiful in it's own right but there are attitudes, religion, and politics that I have a hard time dealing with. So why do I stay? There are a number of reasons. My family is there and I can't imagine living too far from my family. My friends are there and it has taken me an awful long time to find friends as wonderful and golden as the ones I now have. The BF is there, need I say more? And finally, my job is there, a job that I currently adore (minus some of the horrific travel schedules I have dealt with in the last few months). All of these things added up make Utah home, or as much home as it can ever be.

When I travel back to the midwest I fill it beckoning to me, in the deepest pits of my stomach. I feel a calmness surround me and comfort of childhood memories. I love the midwest in it's backward loving way. People are genuine, food is good, and the earth is plentiful.

I just got into Maine last night for the second time. The first trip was short and I had no chance to take in the sites. Luckily, because it is impossible to get here before 5pm, I had to fly in a day earlier. I spent the entire morning seeing the sites of Old Portland and took a small excursion to some light houses.

I am in love. Deeply, infatuated in love. While the midwest calls to me, Maine seems to wrap around my heart. I am an old soul and this city speaks to me on a level that none have before. The closest I can think to feeling this way was when I was in Boston. I love history, something that Utah lacks. I am surrounded with history here.

Sigh. Maine is my new lover. I know the BF won't mind sharing me with a state thousands of miles away. As I write this I am sitting in my hotel room listening to the sounds of the ocean (including the seagulls). How will I ever say good-bye with out breaking my heart?