This year wasn’t hard to figure out. As I lived my first calendar year in Charlottesville, the biggest change in my life happened 75 miles away atop Chimborazo hill.

When Matt, Shaunelle and Loaf moved away, my home/home away from home was gone. But it was another moment of growing up.

I’m now sitting in the living room of the house to which I’ll return after walking down the aisle. I’ll always remember living in Church Hill, though.

I miss walking to Alamo, Capt. Buzzy’s the (defunct) OMG Café, Ben’s Barber Shop, Farm Fresh, the overlooks, the James River; seeing our nosy neighbor, the colorful but mostly benign pedestrians, the trash, the historic brick and granite, the hardwood floors; relaxing on the back deck, at a massive party downstairs, on evenings on the front porch, on Shaunelle’s balcony; Richmond.

But I can say I was there, it was good to be there and, if I had to do it again then trade it for what I have here, I would. This is no Richmond, but working here is no Tri-Cities, no Jacksonville. Not to say I don’t miss either. I must say I was stagnating down there. I’m growing and changing here with Renée and, who knows? I could be back. Or the future holds a city that Richmond pales in comparison.

I could barely write that with a straight face. RVA All Day.

RVA is in my blood now. I may be gone, but I’m there. That house may be gone, but it’s ours. I’m looking forward to saying that about another place soon. A place I can call home.