Letting Go

Facebook note, August 2009

Five years ago I blew into Portland after a short, failed stint in San Diego. I was twenty, and the city seemed electric with possibilities I’d just begun to imagine. I had just secured a job at the Vanguard, the daily newspaper of the college I’d yet to take even a single class at. These were not the halcyon days of my youth, that hot August all those years back, but damn, they seem far out of my reach now.

In a week and a half or so, I’ll leave here and head out to Pendleton for another shot at glory and adventure in the real West. It’s a cliché to say—and a writerly sin—but it seems all this time spent in Portland has disappeared in the blink of a pretty girl’s eye. I’m entirely not the person I was when I wrote the following, a note that is a true artifact of my life. And yet I still am, I hope. Enjoy it. Or don’t. Either way, that was me.

“New Journal”

August 4th, 12:45 AM (2004)

Chapter Two begins now, I suppose, or the very least it did Monday. New apartment—second apartment! Wow. Luke and Devina (sic) are in Atlanta. Luke was wild this morning. Devina (sic) is cool but I can’t always read her. Arghh. I like knowing what’s going on. I’m really frustrated to stay at Hayden’s any longer. It’s a fucking chore. A couple days back I burned myself. Fucker. I’ll be gone soon, so oh well. Elsie emailed me on Sunday. I was tripped out. If she were a little more toned she would be banging. Although really I think I liked (like) her for her brain. But if she lived in PDX I would have serious issues, cuz…I don’t know. Whatever. Failed to jam with Issa—Again! Shitty. Got this job with the PSU daily paper. Have first article due on Sunday. I’m stoked. Hopefully I can get lots of work and money. Saw Michelle Talal today down on campus. She looked good. We talked for a little bit. I can’t wait for classes. Damn. How sick is that? to quote Elsie. Pretty sick.

—

Luke and Davina ended up getting married. Elsie and I never spoke again. I stayed at the Vanguard for five long years, working as sports editor, editor in chief, managing editor and news editor during my time there. Only set foot in Hayden’s a handful of times since I quit. Fell in love and let her break my heart then did it again all over again. Redefined myself. Gained the confidence I’d always hoped I would and sacrificed a little dignity. I survived an eight-car wreck on the Morrison Bridge. I found out how to let it all go.