I just want to go home man.
And this "home" would be my apartment here in NYC. To curl up with my kitten [who is less than three months old, just came home two days ago, and is perfect] and to eat ice cream and watch Friends.
As I was running to my internship today [almost late, of course], I happened to catch my reflection in the mirror and it was surprising what I thought.
I came to this city about six years ago. Six years ago was when I decided I was going to leave the middle of nowhere upstate New York and be better, do something with myself.
I spent my entire high school career doing everything in my power to get out of there. I grew up in a place that is....quiet. And country. And nice to grow up in. We have bonfires, and carnivals, and drive in move theaters. But the people who stay their whole lives, who never leave even for a little bit, are close minded. I couldn't be like that. I had to go.
College was the way I was going to do so. So everything I did in high school: my grades, my extra curricular activities, all of it, was to get scholarship money [so I didn't have to depend on my parents financially] to a place far, far away.
And I did it. I went to my undergraduate university on a full scholarship. And when I was 18, I moved out and into the city.
When I had first made my college decision I kept insisting I wasn't actually going to the city. I didn't want to. I wanted to go to a middle of nowhere school with a campus and life centered there.
In retrospect I don't know how I would have survived anywhere else.
I remember when I was a senior and someone once told me I looked like I belonged in the city. I just shook my head.
Six years later, this place has my soul. I know the MTA, I know places to go, I walk as fast as a New Yorker does. I dress differently than people do at home [not that cowboy boots were ever in my closet anyway], and I've gone places, I've seen things, I've lived.
Imagine if I hadn't moved to the city? It would have been like keep a bird caged when she needed to fly.
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