Tomorrow marks one month that I’ve been back home from New York. Things are still strange. I find myself wandering around downtown wishing I had something new to explore – a new museum, vintage shops, anything. I’m surrounded by familiar faces and familiar places. This familiarity used to bring me comfort. But now I just feel it all passing me by. I don’t want to feel too comfortable in my life. I don’t want all of the same people and experiences, over and over.
That seems an odd way to feel coming back from New York. You’d think such a big, chaotic city would be the one making me feel small. But it’s quite the opposite. Everybody seems so content with their lives here. But I just wish I were walking to the L train, on my way to Brooklyn, with my headphones in. Or reading a new library book at a nearby park. Spontaneously getting a tattoo as my girl friends siphon coffee to me in between pained yelps. It’s those little moments I miss the most. I was hopeful there – surrounded by opportunity.
I still feel the same that I did last year when I made the journey to New York. I feel that everything I’ve needed to do back home… has been done. It’s done and over with. I’m still ready for more. I’m hungry for more challenges. I crave adventures and new places. And New York has yet to be fully explored – if that’s even possible. But I sure as hell want to try.
I will make my return.
Travels And (espresso) Shots 