Favorite Jeans

We all have had a favorite pair of jeans.  Most of us know what its like to put on a few extra pounds and those jeans no longer fit. 

"But those were my favorite!" we think to ourselves.  "I wore those all the time.  How is it possible that they no longer fit?"

For some of us its a heart wrenching experience.

We get determined.  "I'll show those jeans!  Diet begins tomorrow!"

Time weaves us down the road of life, the holidays come, the jeans don't fit.  New Year's resolutions are made; "this year will be different" we vow.  By the time our goal is possible, its way too warm to be wearing jeans, but hey, we look great in those shorts and skirts that fit perfectly!

After the weather cools, the realization sets in that there have been a few too many bar-b-que's, picnics and late nights out frolicking in the warm summer air for the goal of favorite jeans fitting to be immediately obtainable. 

After years of hard work, what should have been perfect timing slipping through our fingers and much frustration, guess what?  An unexpected window has opened in the fabric of time and they fit.

We are in them and the beloved jeans fit! 

Running to the mirror in anticipation of reliving the memory of how perfectly the jeans fit; how perfectly they hugged and accentuated each amazing feature; it doesn't take long before disappointment sets in.

Somehow they are faded, not quite crisp and clean like the memory.  They fit but they don't fit.  They don't bring out our best like they once did.  They no longer possess the sparkly aliveness and fun of times past.  They now feel like faded, old jeans that should simply be retired having lost the qualities that made them so special at one point at time.

This is how I'm feeling about Seattle.  Seattle was once my favorite place.  The water, the amazing mountains in every direction, the misty dusk of mysteriousness in the winter, days that stretched on forever in the summers.  Somehow none of it is quite the same.  It no longer feels like home.  In fact, it feels like anything but home.  It feels crowded, unhappy, full of such angry, strongly opinionated people and don't you dare disagree with them because you are wrong. 

Perhaps it was a series of unfortunate events that started almost the minute I arrived that soured the experience.  Maybe the memories faded as Seattle grew distant in my rearview mirror, becoming more nostalgia than actual memories.  Either way, Seattle feels more like an old pair of ill-fitting jeans, than the place that supported me in my goals and dreams. 

I used to love to call Seattle home.  Used to.