Here. Again.

I was here the first time many years ago. Under wildly different life situations. I was divorced and trying to figure it all out. I knew I had Isaac waiting at home, ready to propose. I knew I would say yes. But I had lingering doubts if the years previous were regrettable. Or forgettable. Or if I had done enough. And what they all meant. I spent that time wandering with my roommate, happy, but thoughtful. Loving New York. Spending a lot of time in quiet contemplation. I came up with some answers. By the end of the trip I knew. I didn't regret that marriage. I loved him and I know he loved me. I knew it was right; still know it was the right thing to do when I did it. I would do it again, should my life play on repeat. Even knowing the ending. I had loved deeply. I had my heart broken badly. I messed up. I did everything right. I absolutely had the extremes of life. There were months of confusion and hurt, but also times of great joy. It was short. It was passionate. It was storms and sunshine and everything all at once in those few years. I figured that all out, the last time I was here. And once I had, my thoughts turned to Isaac.

Every turn I made, the rest of the week, I wished he was there with me instead of waiting for me at home. I wished he had asked me to marry him already instead of waiting on better timing. I wished our marriage had started already instead of having to go through the three months we ended up waiting. Once my mind was right, I wanted it to just be. I never wanted to be away from him again.

I'm not sure what brought about the maudlin. Perhaps being here and seeing a true regret - not ever living here...writing here - brings to mind the big things that aren't really regrets that have tenuous grips on this city. That first trip was a turning point in my life in so many ways. And now. Being back. I have no regrets with my past life. I know that. I'm now with Isaac at every turn and that is the true source of joy in my life. But this city. This city...it speaks to me. It plays with my thoughts. It makes me think of everything that has happened since the last time I was here, internally and ex. Those thoughts I had the last time I was here. That life changing trip plays in my thoughts and dance around, taunting me to live in the past. I've given in momentarily, but find that I much prefer to live in the now. Watching the magic of the city through the eyes of my son. The eyes of my love. My eyes. Being grateful that while I regret never living here, I'm here now, if only briefly. Soaking up the feelings. Soaking up the sounds. Words falling onto paper faster than I can keep up. Regret is heavy, but the things I regret are different than one would expect. Life is like that, sometimes. It dictates things that are unexpected. Regret happens when you've missed an opportunity and as that first trip taught me, I don't regret the relationships I've had, only the experiences I've missed. I'm even more ok with that now than before. Just another thing that has morphed and changed and grown in the ensuing years.

If I'm lucky, my next trip here will happen with less years in between and less personal upheaval surrounding. If I'm lucky, I'll begin to count this city as more than a once a decade indulgence. But if not, I'll use this opportunity to bury one more personal skeleton and begin the fascination anew. I can already feel it bubbling up and taking over. This city is magic.


(i hear you're doing fine, breathe)