I have something to confess to you dear grown-ups. And it will probably be the most personal thing I have discussed with you so far.
It may not be a grown-up topic. It may even seem childish. And you may gain nothing from it at all. But this is my blog and I will say what I like and the metaphorical door is over there if you want to leave now. Because I don’t have any straightforward wisdom or advice for you today.
But I think some of you may identify with what I want to talk about, so it could be useful in that respect.
Tonight is not unlike most weeknights.
Ethan is studying in the other room and will be for another few hours.
I’m watching an episode of Supernatural (Judge not, lest ye be judged) that I have seen at least four times before. Dammit Dean why do you always have to be a hero!
And the same thought occurs to me that comes to me at least once every day, sometimes multiple times a day: I miss New York.
It has nothing to do with anything that is currently going on (the Winchesters are in Wyoming), but there it is nonetheless.
I miss New York.
I miss it constantly of course; that feeling never goes away. But I don’t consciously think about it all the time. It’s not like I sit around daydreaming about New York. I don’t let myself do that. Because there is nothing to be done about the situation.
We live in Los Angeles now, Ethan and I. We decided to move here and we did. It was what was best, and is still best, at the time.
Ethan goes to school here and I work here. We both like what we do. And we have lived here for almost a quarter of a year now. But I haven’t gotten used to it.
I miss New York.
For those of you who are not from, or have not lived in New York, you might think this a very petty and snobbish way to feel. That a person who lived in New York would whine and complain about living anywhere else. And in part you would be right.
New Yorkers can wax on about the city like it is the only place worth living. If you get some very passionate debater started I’m pretty sure they would begin to give you a point-by-point list of reasons why.
But it isn’t that really. I miss my home. I grew up in Northern Virginia. But New York is my home.
I “lived” in New York City for five and a half years. Almost a 1/5 of my young life.
I say “lived” because I, like most people who go to school away from home, migrated back home for the summers and winters.
But after I began attending NYU in 2008, Virginia never felt like home again. I lived in New York. And I think missing home, though maybe not the most “grown-up” feeling, is one I’m allowed to have.
And if you don’t think so then you can just leave cause I’m busy getting my feels out here, okay?
Now the rest of you. It’s okay, sit back down. This is a safe space.
I became an adult in New York. I turned both 18 and 21 in New York. I decided what I wanted to do with my life in New York. The most defining moments of my life happened in New York.
I met Ethan in New York. In fact, if you took a map of New York City and a bunch of thumbtacks, you could probably plot out every major event that has taken place over the course of our three year relationship within that one map. I’d actually really like to have that map.
Because I miss New York.
I miss being able to walk everywhere, and how I used to hate to walk everywhere. And I miss never having to buy gas because you were walking everywhere.
I miss the subway, in all it’s sometimes terrifying and inconsistently efficient glory.
I miss how everything always seemed to be open as late as you needed it to be.
I miss how almost anywhere you needed to go you could get to in 20 mins or less.
I miss the insane amount of delivery options. And the cheap, good food.
I miss the Central Park Zoo and the Great Lawn and the Loeb Boathouse.
I miss Union Square and the statue of Abraham Lincoln. Not just because he was an awesome president, but because Ethan and I had our first kiss with him looking at us.
I miss the world’s best food truck.
I miss the weird tourist things I still did even though I lived there; like standing in line all night to see SNL and freezing in Times Square for twelve hours to watch the ball drop on New Year’s Eve. Because those really are things you only do once.
I miss the NYU campus that was not a campus.
I miss how Washington Square Park could go from being completely beautiful to completely shady in the matter of an hour.
I miss the American Museum of Natural History and its butterflies.
I miss the lights on Fifth Avenue at Christmas.
I miss the restaurants, because the best meals of my life have been in New York.
And I miss my friends. Yes, all of you readers who are back home. I miss you. Ethan and I miss you.
And I’m jealous of you because you are there and I am not.
But Ethan and I do plan to go back home. When he is done with school and takes this “bar” thing and I’ve been with my publication (which has its main headquarters in New York) longer, we will be packing up and going back.
I know that in my head. But I also know that you can’t plan something that is over two years away.
Stuff might keep us here longer. Stuff might keep us here quite a bit longer.
But we will move home one day.
And until then, I will miss New York. And that’s all I have to say about that.