The other night after a long rehearsal I stopped to sit on the Rose Kennedy Greenway.
I picked a spot right on the grass where I could rest against a cool slab of stone bordering one of the walkways. I decided to face east, so I could watch the moon move across the sky behind the Custom House Tower.
Streetlights lit the way for tourists bustling around the North End, stepping over Haymarket debris. Across the lawn a couple cuddled. Behind me I registered the clip clopping of high heels across pavement.
I realized that I had been hiding a lot of disappointment from myself about not moving to Chicago with Liz and Steph.
But I realized it because in that moment, listening to the sounds from the bars and the streets and smelling the Atlantic ocean on the wind, I started to let go of all that regret; and I got honestly excited about staying in Boston.