Urban Head, Rural Heart

Thought Catalog

My heart is in North Dakota. It grew up there on the prairie, so flat you can see for endless miles. You’ve never seen open space like that. When I go home now, I like to stand in the middle of an empty gravel road and just wait. No cars or trucks drive these roads often enough to make me move. My heart is there in the fields my family tended, in the creek behind our house where generations of farm dogs swam. It’s there in the cemetery we buried my beloved grandma in. It’s there in the small town where I cut my teeth, where I’d sit at the tiny library and dream of a different world. It’s there in the sugarbeet trucks that thunder down the road at all hours of the night in the fall.

I come to a full stop in my city life every month…

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