nostalgia

oh New York, how i miss your chaos.

i'm nostalgic for the air, the lights and the noise. i miss how the noise drowned out the anxiety and the unwanted thoughts. I miss the lights and how they didn't just light up the City like stars scattered in the universe, but how they lit me up inside as well. i miss the people, all so different and complex, with their own stories and thoughts and moments — a sense of sonder. i miss the subway and how everything felt so accessible, how it was so easy for me to navigate the veins of the City, as if I've always known how. i miss the thrill you get from crossing the street with a sense of purpose, the thrill from standing in the middle of Times Square with the bright city lights and the blue of people encasing you in a world of your own. i miss the loud laughter and fast-paced movement, always keeping you on your toes in the best way. i miss the unapologetic nature of everything and everyone their. their passions, their attitude, their fashion and mannerisms. i miss how the streets smell after the rain, how it reminds you of flowers being watered instead of inconvenience and nuisance. i miss how everything about being there is as if you're living in a film — not how things are perfect, but how hopeful it feels, how romanticized the city itself is. i miss the sense of love you feel in the City; romantic, platonic, ambiguous. it smells of opportunities and the possibility of beautiful moment everywhere you look, anywhere you are. New York to me, is home. not because I was born there, or because I've been there more than once, it's home because during that one amazing week in the city that never sleeps, I found myself.