I am from Austin (born and bred), but I lived in Dallas for many years before moving back here to Central Texas (I live just outside of Austin now). Austin is not the same as it was in my youth, and that is a bad thing. I cannot bear what the interlopers have done to it. In their ignorance they irrevocably changed that which drew them here in the first place. Stupid. Consequently, I have taken to living in the hills outside the city, near Lake Travis.
Why I left Dallas and moved back to the CenTex is a story for another day - hell, that’s about three or four different blog posts.
Next week I am going to Dallas for five days. That may not sound to you as exciting as the trip I took to San Francisco last year, or the trips to New York City I dream about and pine for on this blog (ah, New York, how I miss you!). It may not seem exciting to you; but I am longing to see Dallas.
You see, Dallas is my second home. I wasn’t born there, and I didn’t grow up there by conventional definitions of “growing up” in a place; but it *is* my second home. It is changing and never changing. Dallas’s charm is defined by change. Whereas, Austin’s charm *was* defined by its unique and previously never-changing spirit. Gone are those days - and if you didn’t grow up in Austin like me, with a Dad who also grew up there, then you cannot debate this point with me. You simply don’t know enough to know what you’re talking about. Now, back to Dallas, because I have digressed into my “Austin Ain’t What It Used To Be” rant.
When I left my parent’s home, I moved to Big D to begin my “day career” (that is the thing I do while I work on the writing gig). It was in Dallas where I first began to seriously water the seeds of my writing dream. It was also there where I truly “grew up” (to the extent I can at all be considered to be grown up - although, I can fake it pretty well for short bursts).
Dallas is more home to me in many ways than any other place. Even after many years away, I still know it like the back of my hand; and I know its nature, its pulse, its hidden magic.
Dallas puts on a face like a sprawling, glittering metropolis; but it has heart - real heart. It is a heart it hides from the superficial traveler; but it will open itself to the dreamer who explores its depths, and who is open enough to understand its warmth.
I leave one week from today. I will relax and breathe in My Great City, My Home Town of Dreams. I will see old friends and very familiar places. I will look at that great dazzling skyline and remember exciting days as I began a new life there, and that excitement will bloom in me anew. I rejuvenate some of the best parts of myself in that place and take them away with me each time.
I will feel Dallas in my blood again in that way only I can know, but can’t describe. Whenever I go back, it claims me again. I feel as if the time that has passed from my last visit is no time at all. Dallas and I are old friends and too close to ever truly grow apart. The familiarity will wrap itself around me as soon as I look out that airplane window and see it sprawled across the north Texas plains.
When I leave it five days later, it will break my heart again, as it has every single time; but as always, I will promise to return. For I never say goodbye to Dallas. I only ever say “Until next time, my old, good friend.”
Polla Filia,
J.F.
