Internet, (well, the six of you on the internet reading this) – I am about to get real with you.
The other night, at the wonderfully convenient time of about 1a.m., I came down with the most gut-wrenching case of homesickness I may have ever been stricken with. My stomach started to churn, my head started to spin, and sleep was the farthest thing from possible.
Because at just that moment, the thought had occurred to me: I will probably not see my mother, my siblings, my niece and nephews in person until June.
Oh my god just writing it has my stomach twisting in anxiety and sadness.
You see, the dust has apparently just now settled on what has been the most tumultuous 18 months of my life since my mom got remarried and uprooted me from my life as I knew it at 12 years old. (No worries, Mom – I’m really over it, I swear. I just needed a good analogy.)
What occurred to me at 1a.m. that enlightening night was the fact that, you know, I LIVE IN NEW YORK NOW. Like, live here. Like, forward all the mail, register to vote, find a favorite dry cleaner LIVE here.
And that’s a good thing. It really is. Every day I walk to work and marvel that I’m walking to work in Manhattan. It’s just that the last time I did this – moved to a new city, forged my way into a new job, new social circle – was about 10 years ago. And even then, spring chicken that I was, it took quite some time to feel like I was really home. I can still remember the flight back to Indy from…somewhere (I don’t remember it that well)…when I heard the landing gear engage and felt, for the first time, relief at coming home. And that was about 2 years in.
So this Christmas, as the plane carrying me back to NYC descended towards JFK Airport, I thought back to that other flight and wondered when I’d get that feeling again, when I’d feel like flying into NYC was truly coming home. Because it’s not just yet. I’d just spent a glorious 10 days with my people – family, friends who truly get me – and while I was more than ready to be back in my own apartment, to not be living out of a suitcase, it didn’t quite feel like me just yet.
But it’ll get there. In the meantime, I’ll do my part to help it along. And Skype. There’s always Skype.