10 years ago today, I walked through DFW airport tears streaming down my face from saying goodbye to my parents.
I was embarking on a new adventure. Moving to a city where the only people I knew were my roommates and I only barely knew them.
It was what I had wanted. What I had dreamed of for a year and a half before that.
But that was hard to remember as that plane took off and I left behind my family, my friends and my home.
Texas was where I was born. Where I had lived my whole life. Leaving it for the unknown that waited for me in Boston was one of the hardest things I've ever done. And also one of the best.
The next two years were a great time in my life. I loved grad school. I met people who became like family. People for whom I would do anything. If they called in the middle of the night asking for help, I'd grab my shovel and not ask questions. People I can still count on 10 years later to be there for me.
My time in Boston were formative years for me. A lot of who I am today is a result of that time. I have never regretted my decision to move back to Texas. It is my home after all. I love being close to my family.
There are times though when I miss that carefree time. Before jobs, before kids, before life got more complicated. Times when I miss the city of Boston. But mostly I just miss seeing my friends more than once a year or so.