Is there anyone out there cause it’s getting harder and harder to leave

I know, that’s not the lyric.

But it is. Getting harder to leave, that is.

This summer I would like to travel around Europe and Asia instead of visiting New York. I’ll have the details of that once they’re confirmed; nothing’s set in stone yet and I don’t want to jinx my plans by talking about them before they’re put in place, but it looks like going on a month-long yoga retreat on the Mediterranean coast of Turkey is a possible option. Slovenia, Lebanon, and Israel are also under consideration. A lot depends on finances, my timetable, and whether my gf wants to come with me for any or all of this grand adventure.

The point is, though, that if I do fail to return to New York this summer, it will basically mean that I won’t be seeing any of my American people for a whole year.

This visit I stayed for three weeks. Three weeks isn’t a huge amount of time. There are friends I saw once. There are friends I didn’t see at all. There are tons of friends I’d like to see more of. And with just two full days left in the States, it’s just not going to happen. I’ve been prioritizing family time to a certain extent. I have unresolved stuff to deal with here regarding my earthly possessions. I doubt it will get handled adequately in the next two days, which concerns me, because I think anything I don’t box up and label may end up becoming trash. Bummer.

On the other hand I am looking forward to getting back to Georgia. In many ways I feel like my life is there, and being back in New York is like some kind of weird… like, some kind of weird limbo. Okay, I’m going to do another Lost comparison so bear with me. I feel like the way Jack felt in the flash-forwards, when he left the island and was like utterly bereft and felt that he had to go back, like the Island was where he was supposed to be. It’s odd, and morbid, but I somehow feel that if I were to die in New York in some horrible accident, it would be especially tragic because my affairs would not sorted out in Georgia.

Honestly, I feel like I’m in a game and every day I spend in New York it’s like I’m falling another turn behind everyone else.

And I guess part of that is how I felt when I lived in New York, when I really was wasting a great deal of time learning lessons the long way (in no small part due to my stubbornness and general skepticism/distrust of anything anybody tells me), and how that feeling contrasts with the way I felt when I got to Georgia, when every small thing I did had a seemingly big impact, and when I began to feel that my job and my life and my career were in some sense on track.

So it’s not like I actually, from any kind of rational perspective, want to be in New York any longer than I have to. And yet sentiment isn’t rational, and sentimentally it’s very hard for me to leave all this behind. To leave behind the place and the people that I come from – and not out of blind patriotism or automated loyalty, but out of a genuine sense that these are the people who made me who I am today, who stood by me in my life when I needed them, who stepped up to bat and contributed to my sense of self-worth and well-being – to leave all that behind is hard, and it gets harder the more permanent that leaving gets. It’s hard seeing them go on with their lives, forming new relationships and strengthening old ones, knowing that I am taking deliberate action to remove myself from them despite the fact that that’s the exact opposite of what I’d prefer to do.

I keep saying this, but I wish I could just drag the continents a little closer together. Just close up the Atlantic Ocean so it would take me four or five hours to get to Georgia and back, rather than thirty.

But even if it was for or five hours, who do I really spend time with who lives a five hour plane ride away? What friends do I see even if they live a four hour bus ride away, in Boston? How often do I see my relatives in Florida, which is only a two hour plane ride away?

Not so often.

I’m belaboring an obvious point. It sucks to leave your friends behind, and the happier I become with life in general, the more that suckage stands out. When I was miserable, the pain of leaving my friends for a few months seemed negligible by comparison. Now it’s one of the most poignant, bittersweet things in my New York experience.

Leaving for a year is harder than leaving for four months. Much harder. And it’s a little scary to wonder if I’ll ever live in New York again, and it gets scarier the more I feel that the answer is no.


Video: Maroon 5, Harder to Breathe

Advertisements
This entry was posted in America, Culture Shock! and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Is there anyone out there cause it’s getting harder and harder to leave

  1. gvantsa j says:

    I felt the same way when I got back to america after living in georgia for a year. I really want to go back &i actually might. It grows on you

  2. Katie says:

    I know I don’t want to live in New York for too much longer after my graduation. I think A feels differently, which is something I am not dealing with yet. But it takes up such a big part of one’s heart, this city, both in good and definitely bad ways, that I can sympathize a lot with what you describe here, and perhaps see myself a few years down the road.

    I am really really glad I saw you at least once while you were in town, because I like your perspective on things. I know A would love to see you as well, if there’s any time in your remaining couple of days.

  3. Amanda says:

    This sounds to me a little bit like guilt, and the knowledge that certain people are probably somewhat upset with you, or hurt by your leaving for so long. Those people fail to appreciate your satisfaction or happiness in another place, and focus more on the fact that they are still here, without you. Maybe I’m projecting, because I experience a whole lot of those things every time I visit.

  4. This is very similar to how I felt after I moved to Maryland but was still commuting to NY to run RAW and see people. I loved the game, and I loved my friends, but my life was truly evolving somewhere else, in a time and place where their influence was best felt as gentle memories. I still enjoy seeing some of those people, on the rare occasions I do, but even they have to admit that moving away gave me a freedom to truly become everything I had wanted to be back then but couldn’t. I typically refer to this feeling like as “feeling like ash”, because seeing the old hangouts and hanging with my old friends reminds me of who I was before, and makes me value who I am now with ardor.

  5. tymala says:

    I once went 5 years without returning home to the States; I say travel about Europe, Asia, or wherever your heart desires while you are still young and still can do so. I only get back to the States to see friends and family every other year nowadays. Life abroad has become a permanent part of my life; but apparently you plan to move back to the States in a year or so. New York and your friends will always be there, but opportunities to see the world will not.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s