A New Missing

Miami. As I sit here, I am becoming acutely aware of two things. I drastically miss my wife, and I am
a bit homesick for New York.

The first came as no surprise. I braced myself for it. She is the love I now call home, and I miss her every day while we simply go about our daily lives. The most perfect time of my day is when I see her again, whether it has been two hours or, because of our different schedules, eighteen. 

The second was a bit of a surprise. Not because I don't love living in New York, but because it hadn't dawned on me that I would actually miss it. You see, I've never lived in a place that I could say I actually miss when I'm away. I've missed people, my family and friends, but never really a place. (Although I miss France, but in a different way. And besides, I think I might have just been born with that condition!)

When I arrived on Sunday, I uber-ed myself over to South Beach. (My first uber experience, by the way, and I am a fan.) The ocean has a way of refreshing my soul, and it felt so wonderful to sink my toes in the sand. I stood on the edge of the water, letting each wave cover my ankles as I closed my eyes and just listened to the sounds of the universe. Afterwards, I walked along Lincoln Road, whiffed more than a few waves of second-hand marijuana, and took in the sights. Realizing I hadn't eaten since breakfast, I started searching. Two blocks up, I was greeted with a familiar sight of home. Shake Shack. The feeling that accompanied this sighting was the first realization of my homesickness. Of course, I had to go. 

As I sat drinking a cold Brooklyn brew and enjoying one of the best hamburgers I think I've had in my life, I smiled realizing my thoughts were in New York not Miami. I thought of the bench in Washington Square Park where I love to sit and read. It is just far enough away to silence the drummers who play on the south-side of the fountain, but close enough to the arch that I can still hear the grand-piano-man playing while I read.

I thought of the Highline and how it winds through the east side of the city above the streets. As with the rest of the city, each season transforms this walk into a fresh new wonder. Canal Street came to mind and the vendors that sell strange Chinese fruits that look like objects out of a child's imagination.

New York's unique sights and sounds have quickly become familiar and comforting to me, but they still hold such wonder and mystery. I'm hooked. It is a thrill to call it home. Many say that one must live in New York for years before they truly become a New Yorker, but I don't know if I agree. Once the city gets inside of you, no place else has the same effect.

One belongs to New York instantly.

One belongs to it as much in five minutes

as in five years. ~ Tom Wolfe