Here, again

I am in New York City again. One of my favourite things I have written so far was from the last time I was here, a year ago. It is not my favourite because it is particularly well-written, or anywhere near perfect, but because somehow I knew I was writing it to keep a certain feeling alive with me. And every time I read it back, I feel it all over again. It is between myself and I… and I guess you, since I chose to share it in here.

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I would say I get comfortable easy. I have been living in the same apartment for 4 years. I use pretty much the same 3 duvets, which I alternate between wash days. I have not cut length off my hair since 2020. I still make coffee as soon as I get out of bed and like bringing it to the shower with me on cold Sunday mornings. I also like staring at the ceiling for some minutes after I wake up, which, while sleeping on a mattress on the side of my mother’s bed for almost 2 months, I realize is something I get from her. Spring is still my favourite season. I live with a friend I met when I was 11. I imagine a lot of things, some of which sometimes lead me to break my own heart for no reason. I am still scared of the laundry room. I still cry on my birthday. I still think about things that happened 7 years ago. I am very curious, and sometimes I am very scared. In my mind, there are thousands of realities I am a part of. In my mind I have done it all.

That is why stability is something that I am proud of having achieved, but I fear sometimes it can become stagnant in my head. When it comes to instigating change, breaking down patterns, moving things around, buying a new bed frame, and moving to a new city, I freeze.

Being in New York, by myself, for 10 days now (7 to go) has made me realize why I crave change. It is because it is necessary, and I think closing cycles is good to keep going, to keep moving and spinning around. I know I will find this idea contradictory to some of the stuff I prioritize on a day to day. My friends know me as the kind of person that loves to stay home and listen to music and host conversations over coffee and tea. I have strong routines, I am disciplined when I want to. I will skip a birthday party if it’s snowing outside. At my core, I know I enjoy slowing down, creating a feeling and living in it. But right now, I think I am meant to be uncomfortably on-the-go. Travelling has the special quality of making me question why I hold onto things for so long, even if deep down I know they are not for me anymore. This is because I cannot bring my whole life in a suitcase, but I always end up bringing myself with me.

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