Leaving New York has always been an emotional affair. The question that always captivated my thoughts was: will I even return to this city I have so quickly fallen in love with. My trip to the airport today was paired with a very unfamiliar feeling. As my cab sailed out of Manhattan and through Queens and the skyline faded behind me, I realized that this was the first time I would be leaving New York knowing that I would soon return. It was one of the moments when I realized that this is my new home.
It seems so strange to be leaving home to go home. To be excited for overpasses, Jack-in-the-Box, trees, and driving, things I had taken for granted for obvious reasons. It’s amazing to think that even if I had wanted to, there is no possible way I could have drove a car these last five months. Life in New York is definitely noticeably different… duh. Every little thing I do is molded and transformed into the “New York way;” it’s become routine.
What am I going to do for 3 weeks without Starbucks out my front door? Will I remember how to drive? Do I really have to drive 20 minutes to get anything I might need… why can’t I just take the F train?! And why doesn’t Muhammad deliver to the middle of effing NO WHERE?
Mr. Pilot said I have to turn lappy off. Home is 20 minutes to the west and 7 hours back east.
N.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Told the family about Muhammad. I am just sad we didn't get to say bye. We'll be back before he knows it..before he knows it.
ReplyDelete