9.24.2013

i wish we could open our eyes to see in all directions at the same time.

























Is there anything better than New York in the fall?

(If there is, keep it to yourself, because let's be honest, I really couldn't care less.)

The past couple of months, I've been Sara Crewe standing on the open balcony spinning wildly with my arms in the air as snow danced through my hair. I've been Charlie flying out of that tunnel in the bed of a beat-up truck with my heart turned out to the world and infinity on the horizon. I've been Harry as the brick wall slid back to reveal Diagon Alley in the moment when he finally felt the world shift into place and knew his life would never be the same.

I've been happy just being alive.

And how could I not be? I'm doing everything I've dreamed of doing and more I haven't, and every time I realize this, I am dizzy in that way you lose balance when you're not sure if you're revolving around the world or if the world is revolving around you. Perhaps this is part of growing older [wiser?], understanding that each day is a whirlwind, and it's easier if you stop fighting so hard to get your footing and instead let the gale carry you where it will.

For the first time, I feel... not old, no, but perhaps ready? Ready to take what I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle.

And then it's fall in New York, and I dream of frozen hot chocolates and thick scarves, brisk mornings and still nights, cool Subway stations and late night reading under piles of blankets with the covers pulled up to my chin, and layered over it all the promise of spending the holidays in the city doing exactly what I always imagined doing during the holidays in the city.

I'm here, I'm here, I'm here, and it's at once better and easier and more natural than I expected.

I'm content?

Who woulda thought?

Title song: "Marching Bands of Manhattan" - Death Cab For Cutie

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