It's snowing outside. Actually, it's not even snowing. It's some type of glorious freezing rain sleet combination that leaves the streets slippery, the air cold, and the sky a dismal shade of gray.
Needless to say, it's a stark comparison to what I left behind in Los Angeles - wearing flip flops, blue skies, sunny days and a dual feeling of calm and happy that I hadn't felt in ages.
When I moved back to New York from Charleston, I thought I would visit monthly; after all, my entire world was there. I quickly realized that as the saying goes, you can't go home. Subtle things had changed, major things had changed. And every time I visited, I felt homesick, like a piece of me still felt that I made the wrong decision.
New York feels like it will never fit, which is funny, considering I have spent more of my life here than anywhere else. I constantly feel stressed and on edge here, which I didn't feel in California.
Of course, one could argue that I was on vacation - I get that. But just the same, I felt a semblance of peace within myself that I haven't felt in ages. I felt like myself - the version of myself that isn't always bitter and stressed. The version of me that can stop to breathe, the one that wants to be out and about experiencing life ... not just watching it pass by.
I miss the sunshine and the warm(er) weather - that goes without saying. But I miss the feeling that I had there - the feeling that I had found my perfect fit and found my "happy."
"Do you believe you're missing out?
That everything good is happening somewhere else"
- "Jesus Christ"
Brand New
6 years ago
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