“I’m losing you, and it’s effortless.”

I spent most of today driving from Memphis to Atlanta. While I dreaded this trip because I knew that I would be making it alone and starting it in the morning, which tends to be my worst time of day, it’s turned out to be a pretty good one. I found a partner in my drive a little before crossing the Georgia state line. I only wish that he had been with me the whole time. When I say “partner,” what I really mean is a “man with a plan.” You see, that’s what it’s called. You either have to follow the man with plan or you are the man with plan. We kept switching that title back and forth, and a few times, one of us got cock blocked, but we watched out for other, even when we were driving 115 mph. I first noticed my partner because he was kind of hot; then I noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt, wherein I tried to reason that he was working on his suntan because his sunroof was opened. My only other option would be because his family had inbred, and I didn’t like thinking about that one too much. Either way, as we tagged one another, and I was whooping his ass with a pretty bad beating, he finally caught up beside me. I glanced over and realized he was trying to talk. But as my brother-in-law and I just noticed the other day, I can’t talk and drive at the same time. If I couldn’t do it then, driving at 40 mph, I certainly couldn’t do it at 95 mph. So after a few attempts, he gave up, but I still appreciated his company.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this city—what she means to me and what I would be giving up to live here. I missed out on an evening of fine company, martinis, and good stories just by taking this trip. While I consider myself as quite the introvert, I don’t want to take my friendships in Memphis for granted. I’ve worked my part-time job for almost seven years, and in those seven years, it’s taken me some time to cultivate good friendships with fellow co-workers. I finally feel like I’m on the inner circle because I’ve managed to stay around and become an old-timer with them.

It’s rare that I can run an errand in my home city without seeing a familiar face, and sometimes those fateful meetings ignite such love from me, especially when it’s someone that I was once so close to, like a former coworker from my days at The Limited or something.

These certainly aren’t reasons that I wouldn’t move; I guess they are reasons that I will be leaving part of my heart behind in Memphis. For better or worse, Memphis is my past. She is full of rich, vivid memories—some great and some not so great. But ever since I laid eyes on Atlanta, she’s always whispered that she had my future.

I have visited here so much that it often feels like home when I get here. I know the smell of the W Hotel like most know the smell of their children. Despite the fact I have driven up and down Peachtree a hundred times, I am constantly soaking up everything I can on it. I read street signs like they are gospel and say them over and over again in my head. It’s as though my brain becomes a sponge the minute I cross over the time change.

I look at this city like she is my long, lost lover and I might never see her again. If I could memorize every curve of her body and shadow that she cast; where she swells and where she dips; how she moves and how she sleeps…just to hear her breathe. She is my love.