Where In The World Is Braelyn?
Nowhere? By that I mean, according to SquareSpace analytics (wow that sounds official), a couple of people have been checking this blog almost every single day. So now, I actually feel kind of guilty. Because the truth is that it's not that I didn't have time to sit down and write something. Rather, I didn't truly feel that it was a priority. In the past three weeks, I have had three different guests staying at my apartment. During this time, I couldn’t even manage to deal with the overflowing pile of dirty laundry on my floor, let alone sit down and update everyone with a beautifully crafted post about my life. I would rather spend my Sunday afternoon sitting in the warm rays of sunlight trickling through the trees at Washington Square Park relishing in the faint noise of jazz music, than in the warm radiation of overused dryers at the laundromat. As for my blog, well I'd rather spend time with visitors actively exploring the city than writing about the past.
That's not to say I haven't had an exciting three weeks that don't deserve to be shared. In fact, Salome made her first (of many) trips to New York City and I finally got to try Georgian wine (and after four years of hearing about this spectacular wine I can confidently say it met the high expectations). The next weekend I ventured out to DUMBO (Down Under The Manhattan Bridge Overpass) with Blair to explore the flea markets and spent far too much time awkwardly posing for pictures in front of the Manhattan skyline. Then I spent this past week with my mom, which included almost 7 hours in IKEA debating the perfect furniture for my Brooklyn abode and over 40 miles on foot exploring the city-- which is an impressive feat considering my mom's bum foot.
And yet, what really makes me want to write a blog post is not the adventures that I had with these people over the past three weeks, but rather the emotions I am left with now that all of the visitors have left. To be honest, I already wrote this blog post once and then accidentally deleted it before publishing. And let me tell you, every word was so incredibly raw. I'm not sure if my second attempt at spilling out these emotions will quite match the first. However, I'm willing to try.
When my mom left on Monday morning, I was nearly in tears. The night before I had honestly told her that I wished she could stay longer. She joked that it was only because she had literally been paying for everything for the previous week. And while that's obviously a benefit of having your parents around, it wasn't my rational at all. I wanted to explain that it was truly so much more than that.
In my desperate attempt to move to a new city, to grow up, to be independent, I was very quick to take for granted the moments that are now going to be lost to me in this new place. When you have someone consistently around you, it's so easy to feel the void that they leave when they're suddenly gone. My mom leaving felt so final. Not in that I would never see her again, rather that it would be the last time she was directly in my world for awhile. Having both my mom and one of my best friends visit in New York City in such a short period of time showed me that deep down, I really do wish it was possible to have all of my people located in one place. To have each person take up their own little space in New York City where I could visit them at a moment's notice. Where I could be comforted by the fact that while of course they were there for me, they were also physically THERE for me.
When they visited me, I suddenly remembered the little things. The happiness that comes from shared glances when my mom and I are having the exact same thought. Our identical sense of humor that allows us to make light of a situation over and over again, not letting a joke die way past is expiration date. There's also the excitement you feel in retelling old stories with one of your best friends, because even though friendship is about making new memories, it's also about the joy of revisiting your favorite little moments from the past. And ultimately, when they're gone, you can feel the empty hole that they left behind.
Over time, of course these little holes get smaller, filled by others who can also bring you joy. But I think there's also a sense of forgetting, which might even be worse. When you aren't actively reminded each day of what makes you love someone so much, I think it's truthfully very easy to allow yourself to dismiss that emptiness. To pretend it was never there in the first place.
Don't get me wrong, I am so incredibly lucky to have one of my other best friends move here with me. I am so blessed that one of my people is along for the ride. But, I can't help but wish they could all be here. And even though technology is amazing and allows you to speak with someone daily if you wish, it's not the same as truly having someone physically there. You can't comfort someone through an iPhone the same way, because sometimes what they really, truly need is the warmth of a bear-hug. While face-to-face interaction on the iPhone allows someone to be there in a second, it doesn't allow them to be there for the mundane things like unpacking boxes or folding laundry.
And in a way that's the hardest part. Because I can't help but imagine what life would be like if all of my people were with me. For a second, I could see my mom and dad living in Chelsea with Liberty (our dog) going berserk at the endless noises from traffic down below. I envisioned Salome joining Blair and I on adventures around the city, slowly falling in love with different areas and local bars.
Basically, I think the hardest part is that there's a piece of my mind where it all falls together so perfectly. This little ideal world I can't help but craft even if I know it's not possible. Because unfortunately, that little picture perfect storyline is unattainable. We can't drag every single person with us, no matter how badly we want to. It's impossible to relocate every single one of our people to the same place.
And for that reason, it's even more important that we treasure each moment with those that can't come along, while still acknowledging how lucky we are to get to take even one of those people with us.