On Monday morning, I put the last of my things in my car, gave my key to my roommate, and said a tearful good-bye to the city that's been my home for the previous three years.
When I first moved to Charleston, I didn't think I'd be in South Carolina long. And I didn't think I'd become so attached to the Holy City. But I was wrong on both counts and am having a hard time imagining my life away from the idyllic streets and cityscapes.
For me, Charleston will always be the city where I found myself (or at the very least, started on that journey). I know a lot of my feelings about Charleston relate back to the years of my life that I spent there. I was 23 when I first moved to Charleston, I had no responsibilities and no commitments and was enrolled in a program where I met a lot of wonderful people who were a lot like me in some important ways.
Strangely enough, I think I had the "college experience" in law school. Even though the past three years were some of the most difficult and trying of my entire life academically, they were also some of the best years for personal growth and for my social well-being. I made lifelong friends, found a passion, and started on what I hope will be a great career.
I could wax poetical about Charleston, but it is late at night and I'm afraid such ramblings will bring me to tears (again) so I'll keep it short. August 2010, I quit my job, packed up everything I own, moved 400 miles away to a city where I knew exactly four people - my aunt, my uncle, and my two cousins - and had the best, most amazing, incredible, freaking time of my life. And even though it was hard (it was so hard) I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
Have a great night y'all.
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