Haven't Been Here In A While

Sometimes when you step away from something or someone you realize how hard it can be trying to go back to see them.  Not just lovers, sometimes when you go back it can be refreshing.  Sometimes its the pain that's refreshed, sometimes its the flame.  Other places, other people, those can be very different to visit once more.  Since moving home I've seen friends but the years have changed them.  Always for the better, even when I wasn't sure who they were anymore, it always seemed for the best how they made their way through their lives.  And places, oh man that can be bittersweet.  Vacation spots that no longer hold the same luster, the same wonder as you make your way down a street or a beach.  Tourists, economics, life, all seem to change the landscape.  Old homes are a different story, places you've once lived for any amount of time.  When those change without you, leaving you behind with your nostalgia it dulls your memory.  If you're visiting a home you once loved, seeing the streets change as they inevitably will, your favorite restaurant changed, a local bodega under new ownership, its like a favorite song out of tune.

I miss New York.  I spent more than a few lonely Christmas's there.  There was heartbreak and hardship, but also there was hope.  Not saying there isn't any now, but there I saw a greater me.  It wasn't the city that made me great, it was the trials I put myself through that made me feel the greatness stirring within.  The walks along the streets, stopping at a local Irish Pub for a pint or the morning bagel routine on the weekends.  It was pretty much brunch in a bag.  You could learn anything, by world class teachers.  I learned to fight and made friends I still call to this day.  Keeping in touch over Facebook or Instagram is not the same thing.  You have to smell the streets, hear the sounds, share a meal with a friend before a night out.  Only then do you start to feel at home again.  Yet its changed, time doesn't stop and people have to keep growing and living.  So it was last time I went home, I loved seeing the faces, sharing the drinks and the stories, and introducing them to my amazing wife.  It just became aware that I wouldn't be able to go there again and expect things to be the same as they were.  Just like when I returned home to Minnesota.

I own a house now, we've been working on making it a home.  I don't know what I'm missing but it feels like a song out of tune.  I need to find what makes my music, I need to remember what played that song for me in New York.  Was it the adventure?  The people?  Maybe it was that I was still honestly chasing my dreams.  Whatever it was, I need to find it again.  I can never make a home until I do.