It's Just Bittersweet.

Last week flew by absurdly quickly. I knew it would, though. I had been looking forward to it for so long, and usually those things that are much anticipated are the fastest to end. It definitely took it's toll on me emotionally.

I flew home from NYC last week to see my sister get married. *My little baby sister. It was all so much fun, all of the family being there, bringing all of their love and support, and being with friends that you can relax with and laugh and forget about everything that was weighing you down before. Seeing friends that are so dear, yet so far away, and meeting new friends and welcoming new family who instantly found their way into my heart. The comforting, familiar embrace of family. It was all so beautiful and I never wanted it to end.
 

The entire time I just wanted to be near my sister. I needed to cherish every moment I had with her. I watched as she quietly struggled under all of the pressure and stress - all of which I wanted so badly to just lift from her shoulders and take upon mine (it's a big sister thing). I watched the way she adoringly stared at Keston, the love and hero of her life who had returned home from war to her. Then, I watched as she walked gracefully down the aisle and made her vows to Keston, all the while a smile never left her face. She was literally beautiful beyond words. Glowing. Elegant. Stunning. The two of them have conquered so many struggles together, more than most people twice their age will ever encounter or overcome, and their love has strengthened into this impenetrable bond because of it. It's just overwhelming experiencing that as an older sister. I'm so immensely proud of her. And I'm overjoyed to call Keston my new brother. I pray that he will accept the "big sister responsibilities" of protecting and guiding her that I handed over to him once they were married.

Anyways. Here I am, back in NYC. And my little baby sister is about to be in Germany. How am I going to stand being so far from her for so long? It's part of growing up, right? Moving on, starting your own lives, yet somehow managing to endure the pain of separation and share the precious moments you have together.

It was heart-wrenching having to leave my family. I felt like my heart had been cemented there with them, and I was dragging it back up to NYC, hard and heavy. I just wanted to stay there with them. But again, this is part of growing up. The part no one ever told you about when you were young, still carefree, dreaming of the day you would be a grown-up.

I'm in NYC for a reason. My time here isn't over yet. I have to make the best of it. I'm determined to.
After being back in the city for a few days now, I remember what I'm doing here. I remember I'm moving forward and experiencing and learning. And although my family is so far away, I have the moments when we'll be reunited again to look forward to.

Stars, Stripes & Skyscrapers

My past 4th of July's have been a pleasant variation lined with a layer of hot humidity of family, beach, friends, tons of food and a fireworks show over the Gulf of Mexico. Being in the city without any family or very close friends this year (My cousins Christopher and Paige were in Upstate New York for the holiday, or else I most likely would have spent it with them), I had honestly been dreading this 4th of July. Just the thought of it brought on a wave of overwhelming homesickness. I didn't want to be stuck in my room with nothing to do, while everyone else in the city was out celebrating, because the only thing more lonely than being alone is being alone surrounded by hundreds of people. Anyways, I ended up spending it with some friends from work and some of their friends by Pier 88, on the western edge of Manhattan, hanging out, eating, watching fireworks - not unlike my 4th of July traditions. It was actually really enjoyable. I felt totally comfortable with them, which was a real treat considering I haven't felt that in a while (besides being with my cousins and their friends).

One of the most difficult things about moving to a new place is having to build an entirely new network of friends. Many times I find myself wishing that I could pick up all of my friends and family from back home and plop them all down within a few blocks of me. But that would be defeating the purpose of moving to a new, foreign city.

Exploring the unfamiliar. Making a leap without the assurance of your safety net. Stumbling upon new inspirations. All of this leads to personal growth and discovery, on a level that would otherwise be impossible if not for pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. Without the steady warmth of familiarity, yet stifling routine-ness that comes with it, you are suddenly left to figure out everything you've unconsciously, and consciously, repressed. You're suddenly left in a room with no one but yourself. And as you're staring into this person's face, you recognize someone you think you know, but the longer you sit there staring at each other, the familiarity becomes faint and replaced with confusion and concern. But slowly, the fact that the person you thought you knew so well is actually something intriguingly new, becomes less and less scary and more and more enlightening and encouraging.

So, as painful as it is to be thousands of miles away from my dear family and home and all that is familiar, it has been invaluably rewarding to set out on this journey of self-discovery, and within it, a path towards my future and a life of my own.