The Things We Leave Behind

I get homesick for New York sometimes. Not as often as I used to, but in a different way. It used to be a big picture "removed from where you belonged" type of feeling. I missed my friends and alll the aggregates of what it was to live there: my daily commute on the subway, my daily rituals, and places where I liked to hang out. Now, my missing NYC is based on details: seeing a TV show with a stone wall in Central Park and knowing how many times I'd walked/ran past it, just during the day-to-day living in the city. Or watching a movie about baseball and remembering all the Yankees games I'd been to, and how I changed into a baseball fan. Even the weather.

I wish I could let it go, but I doubt that I'll ever be able to do that entirely. It'll always be part of me. New York has such an effect on you, there's nothing to compare with it, and there's no way to even explain it to others. I've had a few friends tell me they were thinking of leaving and I've advised them not to. If there's a regret that I have in my life, it's that I left New York City. You just don't know what you've got until it's gone. Truer words have never been spoken.

For now I'm here, and I need to deal with it.