Good Stuff, Brisket. Texas is a complicated place, and I have a complicated relationship with it. I haven't lived in the state for nearly three decades, but I've never gone more than 12 months without at least a short visit.
Three years after leaving Texas, I found myself drunk in a tattoo shop in Pacific Beach, CA getting the Texas flag embossed over my heart to symbolize how deeply the state was embedded in my heart. The ink has faded over the years in perfect correlation with how strongly I feel connected to the state.
When I first left, there was no doubt in my mind that someday I would return to live there again. Around 2012, I started to feel some doubt about ever living in Texas again. In 2021, when my wife and I decided to leave CA, she asked me if I wanted to move to Texas. I answered without hesitation, "Hell no."
I can't put my finger on a specific reason other than it feels "mean" and "angry" after I'm back in Texas for a bit. I used to feel proud to be from Texas, but that pride has been tempered greatly, almost to the point it shades towards embarrassment. I hate that feeling.
That said, I'm always happy to return for a visit. But sadly, I'm always happy to leave again.