St. Louis

This glorious Easter weekend I took a trip - a blast from the past if you will. I decided to take a spur of the moment trip with my friend Phil back to his home in Fulton, Missouri, which is close to St. Louis. Over the weekend, we actually went into St. Louis to watch a Cardinals game and meet up with a friend.

Being a native to Missouri, St. Louis in particular, returning is sort of an interesting experience. I moved away from St. Louis when I was roughly twelve years old - at the beginning of junior high. I grew up with St. Louis - it was all I'd ever known for most of my childhood.

I usually return annually to the Gateway to the West, but each time I'm struck with the same sense of nostalgia, the same sense of longing for the past.

I never really got an opportunity to build a lot of solid friendships while I was in grade school. I definitely had best friends and sleepovers and all that good stuff, but none of the relationships or friendships that I formed then are still existent today.

I visit all the old sites - the houses, the food joints, the schools, the ball fields - but my memory is void of friendships, of experiences. I remember the places, and I remember how much I liked this or that and how much I loved someplace or another, but I can't remember why.

My longing comes not only from wishing that I had gathered more friendships and experiences from my time St. Louis, but it also comes from my longing to know why it still has such a powerful effect on me. Sure, it was where I was born. Sure, I spent my childhood there. But why does that matter so much?

---Austin B.