A Stroll Among Streetlamps

There was something magical about snow falling in the dark, illuminated only by the streetlamps. The city didn’t have that. The snow fell and was missed between the lights of the buildings and the lights of the cars hurrying to and from places that never really made a difference. But in a small town? Most everyone was in their own homes with their loved ones before the evening news came on. And the streetlamps were the only light source to be seen on many streets.

I had missed that.

I thought the city life was what I wanted. So many shows and movies told me that was where I would get my success. But if anyone has ever watched a Hallmark movie, I think they might be on to something. Of course, they’re very predictable and not always the most realistic representation of true relationships. But it didn’t take me long in the city to realize I missed my life in a small town.

My boots crunched on the fresh snow along the lane as I walked. I had only been back in town about a week, but I already felt better. Like when you put on your favorite sweater when it’s finally cold enough, and it still fits perfectly. I was home. And it was okay that home was my comfort place.

When I found myself walking along the street where many of the town’s businesses were, the cheerful decorations greeted me. The strings of lights had been turned off hours ago, but I could see where they strung up on the windows and around the edges of the buildings. Though not nearly as bright and overwhelming as the city, I felt like the Christmas spirit was even stronger here. Instead of decorated out of felt obligation, the people here decorated because they wanted to. Because they were truly feeling the Christmas spirit.

I pulled my coat a little tighter around my body. I was the only one out in the freezing night. I didn’t mind being alone, really. I was used to it. I had spent the past few years mostly alone in my apartment. I had spent the past week alone except for my parents as I moved back to town and began my search for a new apartment. So, being alone wasn’t the problem.

When I left town three years previously, I left a lot of people behind. I wanted to try a long distance relationship with my boyfriend of two years. He decided that wouldn’t work for him, and we ended things before I even left. I was angry then. I thought he was being selfish. It took some time, but I realized I was the one being selfish. How could I expect him to be okay dating me when we lived hours away? And at that time, I didn’t see things changing in that regard.

I left my parents. We made visits to see each other and talked a good bit. But not being within a few minutes of each other was hard. After spending over twenty years being able to have them right there any time I needed them, not having that at the ready made living far away even harder.

I left a best friend. A best friend who understood and supported me through everything. A best friend who wouldn’t tell me not to go follow my dreams. A best friend who tried desperately to keep in touch. A best friend I let down for being distant and not being good at keeping in touch at all.

When I decided to move home, I wanted to tell everyone. But I only told my parents. I thought about reaching out to Nathan and see if he wanted to get dinner sometime, but I chickened out. I knew we both had changed over the few years, and I felt like it would be too awkward to try running back to his arms after being gone.

I thought about telling Sophie, but for some reason, I couldn’t find the right words to say to her. We hadn’t talked in a few months, and that had been a couple text messages around my birthday. I didn’t want to think I could just jump back into her life when I got back home.

My parents would have understood my feelings if I opened up to them. But I didn’t want to tell them how alone and sad I felt. How I had been the one to cause such a cavern between me and the people who once meant so much to me. Who still meant so much to me. I just wasn’t sure I meant anything to them anymore. I could live with Nathan not caring anymore. He had another life entirely. I knew my parents still cared about me more than anything in the world. It was the fear that I had completely lost Sophie that tore through my aching chest. The cold air hurt my lungs, but the thought that I had severed that friendship made it hard to breathe at all.

It got darker when I left the business area and got to the roads where more houses were. These roads seemed even darker though the streetlamps were still lighting my way. I was sure I could have found my way without them though. It was a path I had walked, biked, and drove many times before. Even just after midnight, I knew where I was going in the dim light.

A dog barked as I passed one of the houses and I hoped I hadn’t caused it to wake its owners. I hadn’t really thought about dogs being awake to seeing a stranger walking in front of their houses in the middle of the night. But at least there were still guard dogs to help take care of their humans.

I saw the house I was heading to, and smiled when I saw the light on in the front room. Almost as predictable as a Hallmark movie.

I carefully made my way along the sidewalk and onto the stairs to the porch. I didn’t want to make too much noise. I stood with my hand raised to knock for nearly half a minute before I gently rapped my knuckles against the wood.

I was afraid I had been wrong as I stood on the porch without a sound from inside. But then I heard the footsteps and knew I had been right.

The little curtain on the window by the door moved and I saw a pair of eyes pear out at me. The blur of movement then was faster than I anticipated. The front door swung open and I felt myself being pulled into a warm hug.

I hugged back tightly. I had been wrong about one thing. I was going to be okay with this one, “Hi, Sophie.”