I think of New York often. With so many television shows or movies set in the city, and friends and colleagues planning or returning from trips there, I have daily reminders that I am not there.
Travelling to the U.S. from England is expensive, and having done so approximately once a year since leaving in 2006, I have had to make the decision not to go this year. Money is not the only factor in this decision though – I have desires to see as much of the world as possible, and continually returning to NYC is preventing me from achieving this goal.
Having said all this, my heart aches from not being there. The freedom and confidence I feel whilst there is unlike nothing I have felt anywhere else. I feel at home and I feel like ME. I am myself there more than anywhere else. Whilst I’m sure people are judging me – it’s in our nature after all – I do not feel judged. I can spend the days and nights wandering the city streets with no destination in my mind and still end up where I subconsciously wanted to be all along. The smells, the sights, the people – they all feel like one thing, and that’s HOME. Despite not being born there and not having visited until I was a month short of 21, it feels natural and comfortable to me.
I long to return, to see the familiar faces that have been a part of my life for nine years now, to wander the streets and see the sights and smell the smells and just bask in the wonder of it all. For now, I am some 3364 miles away, dreaming of returning and attempting to get through the misery I am presently feeling at not being there and not knowing when I’ll be returning.
My heart will always belong to the city, no matter how far away I may be.