It's been two years since I left the city to come live in Concord in the house that Peach and I bought. These past two years were heavily loaded with emotions and challenging sentiments. For the entire 24 months, I will admit that aside from my separation from Peach, the other challenging emotion I had to face was my long-distance love affarid with San Francisco.
Within each one of those 24 months, I probably spend 20 days missing San Francisco and plotting my return. I think that if it wasn't for the unbelievable spike in rent prices in the city, I would have probably returned - regardless of how unwise of a decision it may have been. I missed the city so much that I was willing to leave the financial comfort of our real estate investment behind just so that I could be in the hustle and bustle of the over-populated city. I wanted to be able to feel the pride and joy and excitement that I would feel before every time I said the word "I am a San Franciscan."
In all honesty, part of me just wanted access to the party, to be able to get pissed and then just be able to stumble my way home after the bars closed at 2 AM. This behavior was a large part of my previous life in San Francisco. The city; along with a serious of drunk friends, turned me into somewhat of a boozer. Well, Concord has pushed to rethink everything.
It took 24 months for me to realize, that I am not a San Franciscan anymore. There was one particular weekend when a series of events led to realize that I was certainly welcomed to visit the city; come to work, come to party, leave your money there... but that I was no longer a city boy. I found myself; this very specific weekend, feeling like my ties to the city had finally snapped. I was now a suburban boy who got flustered driving in circles in SF, weaving thru mobs of pedestrians who showed no respect for traffic lights and crosswalks.
On this said weekend, I went to one of my favorite bars in SF: The Mint. I saw new and old faces, good friends, frenemies and flat out enemies. Nothing new there. The Mint had always been; for me, a place of excitement and joy, but somehow my plate of fun was always served with a complimentary side dish of drama. Drama that either involved me, or simply other people's drama. Anyway, the bar was always fun until this day when I, for the first time, was made to feel like an total outsider. Yes, I know that I don't go there as much as i used to, specially now that I have began to question the role of alcohol in my life and my relationships; but, I don't understand how it is that meaningful influential relationships can die or be weaken by a separation of three weeks or 30 miles?
The very interesting thing about friendships is that you learn and get to know everything about that other person; their weaknesses and their virtues. Unfortunately, when a friendship or relationship ends, one has a boat load of ammunition to attack the other person with. At the same time, when one is attacked by an ex-friend, you know it... because you know their tactics and ways of manipulating others. So when the broad got up to sing "Back To Black", everything fell into place - I recognized all of the times that I had been manipulated to sing a song that someone else loved or that they could not perform to the crowd's liking or whatever; a request that was made simply to press someone else's buttons. And now, the tactic had been used against me. And bitch, it worked. It worked because I nearly puked - I nearly vomited from the revelation when I realized at that very moment that I was no longer part of this place. I was on the outside and even more interesting is the fact that; after some thinking, I was okay with it. That act of treachery and manipulation, was something I needed to see and feel, to realize that my place was no longer in the city, but back home in Concord.
A second event took place that said weekend. My supposedly "best friend" sent me a Facebook message to advise me that he was fucking the guy I had been dating just the weekend before. Nice. Very nice. The night that the ex and I had our drama; which we never even discussed, that night the cunt moved right in and made my ex's acquaintance. I was ready to move on from the ex after having witnessed severe personality and attitude changes towards me after a few cocktails. Ex reminded of some drunk i used to know and I realized I didn't need that bullshit in my life - i was ready to move on because not only did I not want to deal with a drunk; but I had just gotten out of a five-year dysfunctional relationship and I was SO NOT ready for round two.
I will say that i certainly was not ready for my supposedly-best-friend's "We need to talk." Again, the funny thing is that when we are friends with someone, we get to know them, we get to see their good and bad behavior. So that when the "we need to talk" popped up on my computer screen, part of me wasn't surprised. I was okay with it... at first; but 15 minutes later I was angry. I was angry because I had trusted this person, even though he had given me enough signs to NOT trust him - i told myself how everyone deserved a chance, even if they cock-blocked you every single time you both went out to dance, even though they got you drunk as fuck and left you alone at the bar to go have sex with a trick. Ahhhh, city girls!
The "We Need To Talk" put into prospective my relationship with The Castro. I used to be there always, desperately trying to keep a hold of my relationship with San Francisco; this relationship that in essence boiled down to booze and dick. I was having a hard time breaking away from the drunken reckless nights during which i would feel hot and sexy and desirable and then rinse and repeat.
"We Need To Talk" translated to: "You Ain't Got Shit Here!" That might not have been the attempt of the perpetrator ex-best friend, or the alcoholic-ex; but to me, it translated to that. Those two things outlined to me the inevitable change that was to take place and that I had kept on delaying for god-knows-what reason.
So, here I am in Concord. Finally making peace with where i am; what I have and what I want to be doing. Yes, it's really nice to have quick access to all of the wonders of the city, and to have access to culture and diversity... but the bottom line for me is that I made a conscious decision to leave the city and I now have to make do with the consequences of this decision - the biggest consequence actually being a very positive one: I get to restart my life; and I am in a place where I can start new relationships with people that will be of a more positive impact to my life; break with those that only brought negativity and I get the space to sit back and question just what it is that i want to do - and if I ever were to return to the city, it would need to be for a very positive and valid reason. The alcohol and dick, are simply not reason enough.
Thank you San Francisco. Please sign the divorce papers and return to them to me.
Sincerely,
Inked.
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