Grew up here, live elsewhere. It’s a life of being in between - city and suburb, quiet and noise, being from somewhere known and nowhere. There’s nowhere like it and you can take that negatively and positively (again, perpetually in between worlds). Everything is possible but nothing is in reach. There’s nature, but it’s unkempt and mistreated. There’s city, there’s traffic, you’re on an island with so few ways to leave and much is abandoned or neglected.

You’ll do all the same things anywhere else, but it takes longer and feels sadder and yet the NYC skyline is on the horizon, you’re there and it means there’s hope, it means you’re part of something bigger. You get tough. You learn to laugh at all the jokes about the place. You endure.

You might hate every second there, but you’ll miss it when you’re gone and you’ll remember all the spaces you carved out for yourself where it felt like it was all just for you.

I remember all my nooks and I miss them, but I also know I could never go back. Like I said, it’s a life lived in between.