One week.

A little more than a week ago, I was holed up in a Tulsa coffee shop on a cold, foggy morning trying to hold myself together because I didn't want to leave behind that city I love so much yet again.

It's amazing how much perspective you can gain in just a week.

That's not to say I've changed my mind about anything I felt last Monday morning...I think I'd still rather be tucked away in a magical city no one gives a second thought than just trying to get through a day in the fourth largest city in the country. But I've realized a lot of what I feel for Tulsa I can feel here. And in very simple ways.

I love that city because it feels like mine. I know all its secrets, good and bad. I know it inside and out - and Houston is just too damn big for that. I'll never know it like I know Tulsa.

But I kept thinking about it all week - what makes that one city so special? Sure, there's tons of local coffee shops, restaurants and boutiques...enough to keep a girl busy and wandering for at least a year's worth of weekends, if not more. It's quiet and unassuming - has big city and small town charm.

And it also symbolizes independence for me, which is why it has such a hold on my heart. I went there knowing no one, and I conquered. I felt at home there in a way that I know I'll never feel for Houston.

Then my life got derailed, I didn't try hard enough to stay, and I moved back home to live with my parents. I've been here four years, and though I am beyond forever grateful to have parents who were willing to let me invade their empty nest space...I need to be back on my own again. I'm ready to have my own space, do my own laundry, make my own dinner...I'm ready to get back to that independence. It sounds so silly when I write it down like that, but it makes all the difference.

I might not like Houston nearly as much as Tulsa, but I have faith I can create that sense of independence here. I can find a place to live - in town or inner suburbs, I'm still debating. I can find a cute coffee shop to live by where I can go write, be a touch closer to music venues, decorate my walls however I want.

It might not be Tulsa, but my life is here in Houston and I can't leave it all behind.

I can't wait to rediscover that independence.

Home, let me come home...

I should probably be in a car headed back to Houston right now, hightailing it away from this gloomy, cold
weather we've dealt with all weekend. Instead, I'm tucked away in the back corner of Coffee House on Cherry Street in Tulsa...savoring a few more precious hours in this city I love.

On this trip I wanted to come here for the sake of research - in the book I want to write, my main character works at a cute little coffee shop in Tulsa...and though I never actually stepped foot inside this place during my five years in this town, this was the spot I picked for my inspiration. So I figured if I had some extra time this morning, I'd come plant myself in a chair, make some notes and maybe, hopefully rejuvenate my need to tell this story.

Yup. That was the original plan. But now? Now I'm here because I can't bring myself to be pulled away from this place yet.

There's a certain magic in this city that goes beyond my love for a library or a silly little band that resides here. There's an energy and excitement I haven't found anywhere in Houston. I felt it when I first moved here - every day was an exciting new adventure. I sat in on a writer's group whose membership included S.E. Hinton. I met a girl who knew that silly little band, gave me music no one was supposed to have and introduced me to them. I wrote a lot of beautiful flash fiction to capture the moments of life that mattered in my world. It was all happening.

Remembering that magic brought me to tears Saturday night as I sat on a couch at Dwelling Spaces, flipping through yet another Tulsa publication I picked up over the weekend. There's so many people here just doing their own, artistic thing - and it has room to grow here. No one is shutting it down or ignoring it or saying it's stupid. Everyone has a chance to create.

I miss that. I don't have that. I want that.

I want to be able to pick up everything and head to one of this city's many, many amazing coffee shops (I'm on fantastic latte #3 of my extended weekend) to sit and write and feel connected to a muse - any muse at this point, I don't care. I miss that excitement of creativity.

So how do I get it back? I don't know just yet. And I know I can't sit around and wait for a chance to move back here to feel that creativity...because I simply do NOT feel that in Houston. Which is hard because just about everyone I love lives in Houston. So what wins out? Creative needs or personal needs? If I'm going to do any of what I want to, creative has to win that battle. I know that - but I'm not quite ready for that yet.

So I guess my best option for the moment is to absorb Tulsa's magic as much as possible when I'm here - through the food and music and cute boutiques and vibe of the city.

I need to remember what it felt like: standing on those library steps and feeling infinite - like everything was possible, nothing was silly or too far out of reach; walking into Cain's for the first time and feeling like I'm home; discovering new restaurants unique to Tulsa that I couldn't wait to share with my family on their next visit; sitting at Shades of Brown, reading books and writing in journals.

And then I have keep writing about it all so I don't lose the feeling until I can find a way to get back here.