Middletown / Denise
Monday, December 30th 2002, 0127 hours
Location: Denise's place, Middletown, Connecticut
Weather: snow on the ground
It's been a wonderful weekend, away from the craziness that is New York City. I've been putting up at Denise's place here in Connecticut, and we've basically just been hanging out together all weekend. It's been good.
It's very quiet out here, especially at this time of night, and the days are pretty peaceful too. Middletown's a small college town, hosting Wesleyan University; it's smaller and (I think) a bit less vibrant than Chapel Hill, but that could just be because the students are on vacation. Chapel Hill does have one very important thing going for it, though: it's warmer. There's snow all over the place here.
I haven't minded the quiet, though, and I don't miss the rush and bustle of New York at all. This is a place where the important things are the simple things, the little things. This is a place to sit in an armchair and read, or talk, or listen to music, or watch TV, or write, and not feel as though you ought to be doing something else. In a way, America - outside of the big rushing cities - has mostly felt that way to me: Denise and I were discussing it, and we agreed that it's much easier to live comfortably, peacefully here. She said, before I came here, that there was nothing in Middletown. Be that as it may, it hasn't mattered.
We've been enjoying a very pleasant, domestic weekend: sleeping in in the mornings, cooking (well, she does most of the cooking, really), watching TV, sitting and talking and drinking late into the night. (Denise is asleep now, of course; she's got to be up early for work tomorrow.) We've made a few excursions - to have a look round the university and town, to catch Gangs of New York at the local movie theatre, to have an easy hike/picnic at nearby Wadsworth Falls - but by and large we've just stayed home and enjoyed each other's company.
I don't think Denise and I have ever talked this much since we've known each other, and that's been seven years now. It's been good. It's nice to feel welcome, and to get to know an old friend better, and especially to discover you're both more similar than you thought you were. Even when we met up in Singapore - invariably with other friends - we've never had all that much to say to each other; things were different then, I suppose, in a different country, under different circumstances. Perhaps it's me. I was more cynical in Singapore, she tells me. I seem happier now. And she laughed when she said that, not in derision, but for happiness. Another person, then, who's seen the change. But the truth is that I do find it easier to live, and breathe, and talk here, not constantly feeling trapped between a cell and a straitjacket. Here I feel I can be who I am, live as I wish, say what I wish, without feeling that endless pressure to conform, conform, conform. I very much doubt that all of America is that way; but I've been fortunate enough to live in and visit places that celebrate and embrace diversity and freedom, and for that I give thanks.