It was a place. And it was amazing.
It was NYC.
Now, I've been to Paris. I've been to DC. I've been to New Orleans, to Oahu, to the Greek islands, but no place has even come close to NYC.
And that may sound stupid to you. I've been to all of these beautiful and dreamy places, but it's NYC that enchanted me in the end. But it's true. There are no words for NYC. I can try and name a few, but I know I won't even begin to scratch the surface.
Bustling.
Magical.
Thrilling.
Iconic.
Alive.
I know some people say it's too smelly, or too crowded, or too expensive, or overrated, but I didn't get that vibe.
I thought it was almost peaceful--weird as that may be. While I was there, I could finally feel. Nothing was weighing on my mind. I felt alive, and it was the most amazing feeling.
I loved everything about it. The tall buildings, the eccentric people, the shining lights in the middle of the night. The electricity of the city was truly breathtaking.
I've known what it was like to fall in love with places I've never been, but now I know what's it like to fall in love with a place I have been, and I believe it's almost worst. Now, when I'm not in the heart of the city, soaking it all in, and I'm in my small town apartment, the nostalgia hits me like a physical ache. The longing to go back is so fierce I find myself dreaming of a day when I can call myself a local and am no longer a wishful tourist.
One day I will live in this amazing city. You just wait and see.
