In Jag Lever, Writing

Stained Wooden Floors

Now that I have the benefit of looking back to my very first post on this blog ever (June 19, 2009) in a matter of a couple of clicks, I am quickly reminiscing. Where I am now is so different than where I was that June almost four years ago. The two-bedroom apartment on Oakridge. The mint green wall. The stained hand-me-down tan floral couch and a boy with a matching tattoo.

As much as I have loved living in the city the past three years, it’s hard not to miss the Michigan summer days. Riding bikes (without the fear of getting run over by a taxi), Birmingham, trees, Comet Burger at 2AM and most of all… old friends. I miss riding around side streets of a suburban neighborhood.

Those of you that have read my blog since the beginning might remember Brandon. I really miss the way that my Brandon’s old house made me feel. It was behind where I used to work on a little tree lined street. It was a huge house… maybe four bedrooms if I remember correctly. He lived there with another friend of mine and a couple of guys. The house was just magical to think about now because of how large everything about it was. The kitchen was huge, the dining room was huge and everything still felt warm and cozy. Even though I just recalled the house being so cold in temperature. (It was old and hard to heat in the winter.) But the colors of the walls were warm and there was always something delicious simmering on the stove.

The weird thing about Brandon and I’s relationship is there are so many small things that reoccur in my life even now that make me feel like I’m back sitting in that house four years ago. Our relationship was aesthetically pleasing. Which is a weird thing to me. If a relationship could be branded ours would have been comparable to a vintage American brand. Everything was visually perfect: his sense of style (Nudie jeans, a t-shirt or a vintage western shirt, brown boots or white Converse), the food we ate, the decor of his room, his house and the bike he rode. The relationship itself was the only thing to fall short of perfect.

Oh well. I just like to think back and remember old times compare them to where I am now. It makes me feel whole. I can’t wait to be back in the mitten next month!

Love,

R.

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Jag Lever

I love blogging, fashion, cooking, my cats and coffee.

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