When you go back home

When you arrive back home, your life in the big city doesn't seem real. Everything here is exactly where you remember it to be. You're grateful to be back, but as the days kick in, you realize why you wanted to move out in the first place. Everything feels heavier, and you start appreciating your independence you have in your new city. 

But then you start to remember when you get angry and get into arguments with your family and friends, you always pick it all back up and just forgive. And learn to just...appreciate that you have those kinds of relationships in your life. Because that's love - being able to speak your mind to someone even if it does cause conflict and having those people forgive and still love you no matter what. 

I'm grateful to see that and it really makes me happy to be home for Christmas. My life in New York doesn't feel real when I'm back here. The fact that I'm here at home for a month feels like I'm integrating back to my old lifestyle here again. 

There is so much that I want to document that I have not yet and it's mostly because of my annoying way of believing if my experiences are "valid" to post about because most of the time I feel like I am dramatizing everything. It's hard to leave knowing what you left behind. And my guilt levels are heightened more than anyone else's, even when I'm aware that nothing is wrong. 

It scares me to know that I'm living my life in New York all solely for me. It may sound odd, but I don't think me is enough, which is probably why I crave to find people out in the city that make me feel like home. But besides this craving and this feeling of loneliness, there isn't a day where I am in awe of the city and how fortunate I am to attend NYU. To say the least, this is where I want to be right now. 

Merry Christmas everyone <3