Water under the bridge PT 1

I moved to Minneapolis in 1996.  I had always been in love with the area ever since riding through it on my family’s way to Iowa or Wisconsin from South Dakota to see my grandparents a few times a year.  When I moved, it was after my first year of college and just past the Midway point of the 90s.  I had found an apartment in St Paul, a dirty building, just off of Larpenteur and I was happy to be in the Twin Cities, even though most of my family was in Iowa, and my brother and closest friends were in South Dakota. 

I moved to St Paul for a girl I was dating, and it took moving there to make me realize she was just a girl…not THE girl.  We split up and I quickly realized I was just one person, living in a city that, while captivating and amazing, wasn’t an adventure I could share with anyone.  I rarely went anywhere but work, I didn’t really get to know many people, and I eventually got scared by the complexities of life, and I moved back to South Dakota after 9 months of living in St Paul.  It rained as I left St Paul that May, and it was almost as if the city was crying at the fact I was giving up.

For awhile, it was good to be back in South Dakota with my friend Kris and my brother, but I soon realized I missed the Twin Cities more than I could imagine…