Chapel Hill, I love you.

I have a little more than a week left here. Holy fucking shit. Writing it made it real. And I don't want it to be. I was talking to an author today at the store who teaches in the UNCW MFA program, and yet again, thought to myself, why did I not apply there? They have the #2 program in creative nonfiction. To the best of my recollection, it was because I was already spending so much on application fees, GRE fees, trancript and score fees. And I thought I'd surely get into UNC-CH. Well. Weren't we all in for a surprise. sigh. But what's done is done.

The past 4 years.....have been wonderful. A friend from the MPH program and I went to dinner on Franklin St the other night, and it was great. Afterward, we walked around, went to Yogurt Pump and then walked around UNC's campus, and I took a picture of the Old Well. I remember the day I moved to NC, and I drove down Franklin St. I'd never really been on a college campus with such a picturesque "main street." Shops advertising Carolina blue apparel, Tar Heels everywhere, little restaurants and the ubiquitous Starbucks. This is the street of the huge annual Halloween party, and the place where students went after winning NCAA basketball championships. It is the stuff that movies are made of, really. I've studied with friends at Starbucks, celebrated my 30th birthday at Sugarland and Top of the Hill, had drinks at Spanky's, celebrated my 27th birthday at Tallulah's and eaten huge plates of hush puppies at Carolina Brewery. It is where I had my graduation dinner at 411 West, eaten bowls of Cold Stone Creamery while walking down the street, and just off Franklin St, gone to Fridays on the Front Porch with my old roommate.

I remember wanting to be a Tar Heel in high school, but in an abstract way. All sports kids liked Carolina, the powerhouse of athletics. When I finally got in, I was ecstatic. I couldn't wait to live in Chapel Hill. Where even the fire trucks are Carolina blue. I cannot describe the small-town feel of it, especially after the students leave. I have never lived in a place like this before, and I really dread leaving.

But it is the people I will miss most. Many of my friends have already left, but I have friends still here that are amazing. I have made wonderful friends at work, and when my boss asked me how excited I was to be moving, I started tearing up and couldn't talk about it. When my coworkers tell me they are simply refusing to believe I am moving, it makes me sad. When my running group talks about running races in the fall, or being in denial that I'm going, it tears at me. Thinking about not seeing all these familiar places - Southpoint, Estes Community Park, the Chapel Hill library, Caribou.....makes me sad.

I know I need to go to NY, because this is where I need to go to get where I want to be. I just wish I could have done it in NC.

On a brighter note, I've received some swag from Kiel James Patrick and will be giving it away soon to a blog reader. :) Stay tuned.