divine angst

Tonight, Mr. Angst and I walked in the rain, side by side, arms around each other.

So we could fit under the umbrella, of course.

We went to Bar Review. We were joined by a friend from Our Old City who is in town for a conference. I felt very at home for a while tonight, sitting at a table in the corner of the bar, talking about football and people we know, looking at pictures of his kid, and listening to his own law school stories. Things felt right.

Which is not to say that Our New City™ is not a wonderful place. I love this city. Our friend even said that, the more time he spends here, the more he likes this place. No, it’s not where we are now. It’s that we’ve left behind so much.

I don’t regret this; I never regret it. I haven’t had a regretful moment since we got here. But I can miss what we had. I can miss the ease of Our Old City. I can miss knowing what places to go to and how to get there. I can miss calling up friends to meet me for happy hour at the drop of a hat (though that wasn’t a frequent thing, I knew I the possibility was out there).

And I do. Look, life isn’t just about the good moments. It’s not just about feeling at home and comfortable and happy. It’s also about feeling lost and sad and regretful. I’m glad I don’t feel regretful. But sometimes I do feel lost and sad, and tonight is one of those times. In my mind, I see what I could be doing right now, and that picture is a good picture. It’s not bad that I’m doing something else, but the sadness of What Might Have Been is still there, lurking under the surface