Is it possible to have grown up in a city without ever having lived there?
I told Chrissie of a memory I have from then: of my mom sitting next to my Aunt Donna on the T, singing some song from the '80s louder than any one ever should on public transportation; my sister and I laughing; Ryan inching away. And another time, with the college prep summer program I'd begged by parents to send me to. I marveled at a Mississippi boy marvel at hiking gear in Harvard Square, between campus tours. I considered what my future might look like. And though I was not then offered a spot in Boston College's Class of 2010, I spent a secret wonderful weekend nearby with a boy I'd soon fall in love as an undergrad at Syracuse University. Once graduated, heart broken, I would escape from the painful what-should-be that hung in the New York air. I'd be reminded of all that I was and had been. I had friends who lived in Boston then. I still do in fact.
It was perfect.