It is such a strange thing when you feel both hatred and gratitude for a city. I have spent a little over twenty-two years in Richmond. I have made my first memories here, experienced my first heartaches, learned about holding on and letting go. I can’t walk down a street without being reminded of someone or some event. Though I grow tired of this place, and when I hear the trains traveling over the trestles late at night in my bedroom I can’t help but wish I was leaving with them, I know that this city has helped shape who I am today, for better or for worse. I think everyone owes a little respect to whatever has beat them down and then taught them to stand back up.
