I lived in the same house in San Francisco for over seven years. I knew everything about the neighborhood. I knew my neighbors, I knew the cashiers at the corner store. I knew the cashiers at the liquor store. I knew the bartenders at the dive bars. I knew which bus lines to take. I knew where to find parking. I had it made. Then I had to move into a new neighborhood in a different district. I had to start all over and I didn’t want to. The new neighborhood didn’t feel right. It wasn’t mine.
Luckily I got a chance to move back to my original neighborhood, about a block away from my first house. I’ve only been moved in for a couple of nights now, but it feels so good to be home. I’m back in my old stomping grounds and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. My first day back I went to the liquor store for a celebratory beer. The cashier remembered me and greeted me with a warm welcome. He shook my hand, asked where I’ve been, where I am now, and why I had to move. People noticed that I was gone and they were glad that I came back. It’s a great feeling to be remembered. I missed my neighborhood and my neighborhood missed me. It made me realize that you’re not just a part of your neighborhood, your neighborhood is a part of you too. Make sure you appreciate it.
Critically Rated at 16/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young