Describing The New Terra Firma

So I'm here now... 3 weeks from when I first stepped into that winter-laden concrete outside the airport.

There's been so much - for lack of better terminology - spontaneity and randomness. It's the funniest thing, really - from spotting a schoolmate I've not seen in more than 4 years to getting asked out by Mr. Latino-Graffitti-Man at the corner where my newfound crush opens doors for me - everything's away from the steady circle.



Am I having fun? Sure I am. Between walking avenue 1 to 21 and getting lost in subway transit, it's been enjoyable. I've had me try 5 quarts of ben & jerry's in different flavors and each one was quite the treat. I've gained more pounds than I care to admit, but that's a small price to pay for loving the good eats. More than that - the new scenery, the new life, the new everything - it's everything I thought it to be and more. And that's great, really. It's great when it fills up my entire thought train.



But as the course makes a return flight to where I came from, the happiness becomes and entirely opposite reaction.

In the course of everyday, there is not a moment that passes that I think of home... of everything and everyone I left just so I could start living a life up here. Yesterday, I cried. For the first time in 3 weeks, I let the tears fall; if they were tears of frustration or sadness I couldn't really tell, but I did. I let them fall as I sat in that church pew. It felt relieving... because for the first time in 3 weeks, I missed it all so badly... and it felt relieving to know that my icebox of a heart could still manage to attach itself somewhere and label it my hearth.

At least now I know I'm not numb enough to completely not want to come home.