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Written wisdom: New York, I really love you

The decision to study abroad was not one that I made lightly, and I thought I’d considered everything that I’d be leaving behind, and come to terms with the fact I would be without all of that for a semester. But the other day, I was getting food at local eatery Nussbaum & Wu (as I do more times a week than I am going to admit), and I thought of how I’m going to miss stopping by there (more times a week than I’d like to admit). And then I thought about how I’ll miss Morningside Heights - not just Columbia, but it’s physical location. And then, listening to the traffic outside, I realized that I hadn’t thought about studying abroad in terms of studying outside of New York. 

With the exception of several years in Canada when I was much younger, I have lived all of my life within thirty minutes to an hour of this city (it depends on the mode of transportation). And I don’t think that I’ve ever been away from it for more than a month at a time. 

I’ve found myself discussing New York with classmates more frequently lately. Often, the person with whom I am having the conversation concludes that living in New York was fine, but not for them. And when they ask if I like New York, I normally conclude that, yeah, I do.

But I don’t like New York. Or rather, I don’t just like New York. It’s clichéd, and I feel like this could be some seventh grader’s journal entry, but I love this city. I love that it cannot be properly represented in any movie or TV show. I love the way it feels like all of urbanity is pushing up against our dorm rooms. I love feeling too close to my neighbors, hearing everything too loudly, the awful gray color that the snow gets in February, the fact that every subway exit takes you into a different world, the way it can be hot and cold in the same day, how the buildings loom, how small I can feel, how much a part of everything everyone is at all times. 

Back when I was deciding whether or not to leave for a semester, a wise woman (okay, fine, it was my mom) reminded me that everything that matters most will be here for me when I get back. 

New York—you matter, and I miss you already. But you’ll always be there for me - and for my peers who think that they’ll leave for good, and for those who can’t wait to be here forever - when I (we) get back.