It’s funny that I remember this song quite well by the time 1995 rolled around. I’d hoped, back in 1991, that I would be better off and in better emotional shape by then, but alas…
It’s been thirty years since I’d moved out of Boston, and I still think about that from time to time. It was one of the rare moments in my life where I’d said “fuck it, I give up” so utterly completely. But even then I knew that it was the best decision in order to fix a terrible situation. Thankfully I’d been able to transfer my job to a different theater, even though I knew I probably wouldn’t be there for long. I just needed some kind of anchor so I wasn’t completely unmoored. I allowed myself the entirety of September to get all the anger and defeat out of my system before I started fixing my situation.
But in a way, being unmoored to that extent wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I knew I had to change a lot of things in my life. Grow up some. Deal with some personal shit that I’d been avoiding for years. Think about who I was, who I hung out with, and what I wanted and needed to change. Living with the family from ’95 onwards certainly had its own ups and downs, but it remained that steady platform I could build something new on. It gave me time and breathing room in order to do better.
Fast forward thirty years, and here I am, twenty years married and owning our own home. I’m still a writer — one who’s self-released seven books, with another one on the way and hopefully many more in the future. I still have a stupidly large music collection that is still expanding (though thankfully taking up much less space these days). Life still has its ups and downs, but for the most part I’m doing okay.
Was it worth staying there for a full decade? Definitely. I probably could have moved on earlier if I’d planned better and saved more. Sure, I still made a few dumbass decisions here and there, but doesn’t everyone?
Walk In Silence 