This is my first Boston version, under the August sunlight, dreaming for a future while still clinging onto memories. She came to this country, leaving behind the remembered past, prepared for heartbreaking outcomes. Yet, carefree as she had always been, as optimistic as she was and as bright as she would be.
I don't have an illustration for the second version, which appeared during Thanksgiving. Before this time, some "heartbreaking outcomes" showed up and collapsed her hopes and mental state. She kept being carefree, optimistic and bright - but by effort, not by nature. Wasn't she ok? Nobody knew the answer except for an acquaitance who happened to catch her crying bitterly among the crowded Best Buy.
The third version was a relieved and friendly one, because it was featured in the Christmas scene. She was on her run escaping from troubles, with a positive and desiring mind because she knew she was far enough to not be caught again. People saw her as the source of joy and energy. But she couldn't feel it herself until the night she wandered around the city and got lost by the bank of the Charles River, which cleansed her soul and brought it to revival.
The fourth version was with her best friend. As a result taken-for-granted, it made the best out of her. Despite everything that followed after, she was beautiful, lively, laughing and self-expressive, wholeheartedly, carelessly. That was the time she felt happy for being envied with and enjoyed her superiority to the human beings. Adventurous and free-spirited - weren't they the adjectives people use to describe her?
And the fifth version is needless to say. She returned to origin, to the "passionate" and "darkly-wild" side. She returned to the status quo, in which she was simply herself and couldn't care less about the evils.
All of these five versions were me as a freshman in college. After that, I didn't see myself in this city anymore. I failed to see a reflection from the night lights and river flows, failed to find beauty and comfort, failed to imagine. It's the friends in Boston whom I miss, cherish and would love to be with. They know me, but it doesn't anymore.
Will the next time be the sixth time?