Bobby Jean

The only certain freedom is in departure.

I don't know who said it, but I'm glad I heard it.

We listen to the stories of our friends in his songs getting out of dodge. We watch as they finally feel that it aint no sin to be glad you're alive. We watch, and sometimes, we go with as they leave in the middle of night to catch the sunrise that will determine their destination. These people leave, searching for that something that is bigger than themselves, and hope that this massive feeling of fearlessness will last forever as they step into the night.

But in those songs, what happens to who's left behind? Who did Rat leave behind before he got to Jungleland?

At 23, I find myself in a constant whirlwind of meeting new friends, and saying goodbye to the old ones. It feels impossible to have anything concrete in my life. I have my born to run poster that has planted itself on different walls of different houses over the years. The friends I had when I first put it up are 2,000 miles away. Some I don't talk to anymore, some I just reconnected with, one has a baby, another is getting married. I had a nose ring then and had just turned twenty-one. The crumby paint or tacky wall paper changes behind it and will continue to- but that poster is one of the few things that will remain the same. It's a reminder. When lost=look to the boss.

But friends are leaving, jobs are had and lost, and no one wants to commit. Commit to moving to one place, to staying in one place. Commit to being there until the end, because the end and the beginning are not defined. They happen at the same time every day when you're twenty-three. And maybe fourty-six. All the time.

I know I'm not the only one who thinks only about themselves when they watch their friends leave- about what life is going to be like without them near. How it's going to affect me. Once they're gone, the street to their house is only a street that goes somewhere you used to go. You can't go there anymore. I just moved here, and my best friend is leaving this city for four months. I've never done this city with out her. And I don't want to. She taught me how to do it. She showed me the right bars that have the best juke boxes, the best bartenders that will you give you free drinks, she gave me her friends, and her home anytime I needed it.
We all want to be supportive of our loved ones- and it might take a couple days or weeks, but she didn't need to say anything else other than "Wendy, I just need to do this".

And that's when I looked at her and said in my own words, "good luck, and goodbye".


Thanks, Boss.