Driven by a spark of wild desire

The view from my bedroom window this morning. I’d get a better view from another window, most likely, but I’m loathe to leave the warmth of my bed. It’s supposedly -4° outside.

Feels like one of those days when it’s perfectly acceptable to curl up under masses of blankets and just… sleep.

GOD I miss New York. So, so, so, so much.

I just want to go home.

Twelve days. Just twelve.

I can do this.

Home for the holidays means:

I’m home with my dog again. He licks far too often and has no tolerance for picture-taking.

And, because it’s snowing and my hair won’t stay straight, I’ve gone au naturel today. It’s a nice change.

The simple things.

The elite, the pristine. And the rest look on with envy at the angels they could never be.

I have to get to see my old group from highschool tomorrow night. Haven’t decided if I’ll go yet.

I don’t hate them - or not most of them. With these people, it’s a group package; the good, the bad, and the ugly. (literally. ahah that was mean. forgive me.)

Still, it’s difficult for me to spend a lot of time with stagnant people. People who have no desire to leave Colorado, people who don’t understand what it’s like to feel the draw, the ambition to do something more.

These are the times when I can FEEL the strings tying me to a former life. I’m holding the scissors and have the perfect opportunity to cut them all. Will I regret it?

I’m not the same person they knew. So many secrets, now, that they could never hope to know and I will never tell them.

Still, though, we were friends, once upon a time.

I need to decide how much I care, and act accordingly.

My room looks pretty much exactly the way I left it… A sense of solidarity.

Welcomed back by a fog-filled forest and the darkest night I’ve seen in a long, long time. The snow shimmers on the roadside, and the night is so, so quiet.

The silence is overwhelming.

The stars hang like diamonds in a far-off sky; the sky is so big. I’d forgotten.

Colorado is beautiful by moonlight. Savage. Intimidating.

Onwards we plunge into the stillness; I am no longer afraid of the dark.

Reminded me suddenly of my home in Colorado.

I leave in 5 days.

In 117 hours, I will be on a plane bound for Baltimore, bound for Denver.

Manhattan is slowly slipping away from me. How I’ll miss my city, and everything about it… Including you.

Oh, how I will miss you.

And then 25 days until I return.

It’s not so long, really, but I worry it will seem like an eternity.

10 days.

I shall miss you in winter, my city.

You won’t miss me, New York. You won’t miss any of us - we come and we go, we flare and fall. You remain the beautiful challenge to the stars as your skyline climbs ever higher.

But I’ll wait with bated breath for my return to your lights. It’s only a month, after all.

10 days between Denver and me.
January 11, look for me under your brilliant evening glow. I’ll be back, NYC, I’ll be back.

Manhattan. Just the sound of it is pure perfection.