I miss NYC and I’m still here
I fall madly, deeply, desperately in love with places. My first true love was Italy, specifically Florence. On my last visit 10 years ago, I sat in a piazza wishing it goodbye. I used to fantasize about quitting my career so I could stay in Florence, learn Italian, and become a waitress. I yearn for it. My heart aches as I type this. I miss it almost all the time.
I recently fell in love with Scotland. It was №1 my husband’s list of places to visit. I didn’t feel that strongly about it before going, but I’m always up for an adventure. Then after being there for only a day, I fell hard for Scotland. I can’t even articulate why I love it so much. It is that kind of enigma of love. I think about the green hills, the lush glens, and the Fairy Pools.
I look into which universities in Scotland might be hiring social work professors. We recently discussed ordering a wall-size print of the Isle of Skye so we could wake up to that view every day. I’ve been watching so much television set in the U.K. (Broadchurch, Killing Eve, The Great British Bakeoff) I might emerge from this crisis with a British accent.
I am also extremely lucky to live in a place I love. I love New York. Not in the, I ❤ NY T-shirt kind of way. True love. I love that you can hear half a dozen languages in three blocks. I love that you can have almost any cuisine you want, at almost any time of day. I love the Chrysler Building. I love the Brooklyn Bridge. I love the theater. I love the art. I love the people.
And I miss it. I long for it. I am privileged to have secure housing, income, and a job. But I mourn for the loss of my city. I miss hopping on the N train and landing the middle of the chaos of Times Square. I even miss walking through the chaos to get to the overpriced pre-Broadway martinis with my best friends. I miss crying over the amazing voices and the powerful words in the dark with strangers.
I miss wandering around in neighborhoods that are unfamiliar but feel like home. I miss dodging young people living their lives in the city I love. I miss walking down steep stairs to sit in a crowded Ethiopian restaurant sharing injera and honey wine with people I love. I yearn to wander down the streets taking the long way home past a fountain, under an arch.
I miss riding a train over the Manhattan Bridge so I can flirt with the Brooklyn Bridge and see the Statue of Liberty on a clear day. I miss the happenstance of this city. Drifting into new-to-me neighborhoods and running into old friends and even seeing the occasional celebrity.
I love my city. I miss my city. I yearn for my city. I am adding NYC to cities I fell hard for and now miss.
