Summer in Seattle

Seattle is the abusive boyfriend I just can’t quit. Most of the time he’s a complete dick. He’s moody, reclusive, a complete downer. My inner “solar powered unicorn” dies a bit every day I wake up and look outside. “Um, rain and clouds again, Dick?”
Then, just when I’m starting to get the courage to really leave him for good, he pulls out his best charm. The mountains are visible. The sun peaks in the window at 6AM gently nudging me awake. He tells me I’m lovely and he woos me again. Everything is shiny and bubbly. He brings me flowers. He kisses me on the cheek with warmth.

I remember a real estate lady telling my friend V when she was looking at moving up from California, “It’s not lovely a lot of the time but when it is? It’s amazing.” I used to tell my friend she was “sun entitled” because she would actually STAY INSIDE on a sunny day. “Oh, no, here we don’t do that. People call in sick. There are accidents on the freeway because of the sun. We slow down over bridges to look at the mountains.”

It’s true. Looking at the mountain on my way to work, I soften a bit, second guess my ability to leave. I nearly forget, in just a day or two, how miserable my boyfriend makes me on a daily basis.

Seattle? I quit you. I love you. I want to have your babies. I want to leave you.

But thanks for showing me your pretty side today. It was just in the nick of time.

Coming Up