forcing it?

I live in the city because I'm a young person. My predilections tilt me towards a community that is used to ignoring people who scream at sign posts and donkey punch the air. So, anything I do is bound to go unnoticed. And, there was rugby. When I was playing I couldn't imagine having to commute an hour and a half to play (again) so I moved, and stayed, in the city. Really, I'm here for my current job and I'm here for my friends. But, I only enjoy my work so much and I know, with heart and soul and muscle memory, that there's something else I need to be doing instead. And, I know I'm less of a friend than I could be. Just like I never went to the K&K when I lived up the block, I worry that I shirk my duties to my friends while they're right here, miles and minutes away. So, why is it that, knowing this, I still chose to spend my free time digging in the yard, alone unless you count the dogs? I could throw in the towel with this whole house thing and do what most people do: tend to the basics (food when hungry, laundry when necessary) and hit the bars. I like bars. I like beer. I like people. The problem, I think, is that I feel like I know myself the best when I'm working. I like crouching over some tiny seedling and gently packing it into its new place in the garden. I like shoveling dirt, if only to move it from one location to another. I like hammering wood to wood. And, I love burning anything. I love the smell of smoke, the ferocity of white heat, the more demure red heat. I love the way my clothes smell the next day. And, I love putting on dirty jeans, worn soft with sweat and one hundred crouches and squats. Working means continuity. Going out is just the opposite. If you fall off the wagon, it'll take a running jump to get back on because that sucker is cruising. I wish there were another way to tend to friendships the same way I look after this damn yard. I wish it weren't one or the other because, when I'm outside, I don't regret where I'm at. I can't always say the same for nights spent drinking.

I don't want to waste my time spent in the city because I know I won't grow old here. I'll grow old fast and fat if I stay in this place. But, I love so much about it while I'm here. Most of all, I love the people. But, when I've been in smaller places I've hung on to a few strategic friendships like a pit bull on a rope. Maybe because time felt slower or maybe because the space shrank as the horizon stretched on. In a place teeming with schools of people, I can't get any strong bites. Probably because I'm fishing without bait. But, we'll see. Summer is coming. That's when everybody wants to be outside. Maybe the two things I care about most can meet in the middle, if not just for a few months.