Returning to New York

It was different this time when I left home and flew back to New York after Spring Break. I sort of felt it in the airplane as we landed, just a little. Then, I felt it again in the taxi on the ride home from the airport. It was a feeling, an emotion that I hadn’t felt before in New York City… relief and happiness, a kind of happiness to be back in New York.

For me, that’s huge. A big step toward considering New York more of a home as opposed to just some huge, overly crowded, expensive city that I must survive for the next few years. The transition from home to the city proved more difficult than anticipated, and finally a sense of relief and belonging welcomed me.

I slumped in the backseat of the taxi, weighted down by my 51.75 pound suitcase, and watched the trees in Central Park melt into one green blur. Some of the streets, some of the buildings looked familiar. The incessant car honks and people yelling oddly comforted me. The bright lights of restaurants and store windows cast shadows on the sidewalks that danced and excited me. For one second, I understood, I got why people fall in love with New York. For a brief instant, I finally felt connected to a place that had left me yearning for home since August.

The feeling didn’t last long. Or, it lasted until another car cut off my taxi which prompted my driver to let out a three sentence slew of cuss words in a foreign language. He then retaliated and swerved so violently to the right that a biker was forced to jump the curb and nearly sail into a metal street lamp.

I don’t consider New York my home… yet. But, I can sort of feel it growing on me. I can see it coming. Like the longer I stay the harder it may actually be to leave one day. For the first time, New York and I are seeing eye-to-eye. We are working out our differences and, like springtime, ready to begin anew.