My first day back in the city I love, Portland, Oregon (it’s only a small exaggeration to say that my family, who visited recently, was surprised that it is not burning to the ground).
A little background: I lived here for a year, then had to leave, unfortunately. After two years away, I got a job that brought me back out here, which was my desire from the moment I initially left.
So, I arrived by plane from all the way across the country in Florida (I had been living in Vermont, but transitioned down to Florida, where my parents were living, to coordinate the move). My dad and I had been out here a month earlier to scout apartments, and the one we decided upon was the destination I now focused on via public transit.
I lugged my suitcase and backpack aboard the Max train directly outside the PDX airport. This got me to a bus stop about halfway to my apartment, and the bus carried me the remaining way. I met the move-in coordinator, who gave me a whole spiel, and then I was alone in my empty apartment. The unbearable joy quieted around me: I was back. I had made it.
I went out and bought day-one essentials, then I worked on unpacking all the items that I’d either shipped from Florida containing my few possessions or that I’d purchased from Amazon containing my bed, bed frame, dishes, etc., etc. I believe I spent the rest of the day doing this.
That was six months ago, and I love my life here in Portland. It is everything I dreamt it would be.
The AM Intrigue 
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