I could tell you all the ways in which you make life hard. How now, as I approach 30 the scale has shifted and your joys no longer outweigh your trials. At first I saw it as a defeat, that I no longer loved you, your energy, your opportunity. But then, I realized it’s not a loss, I’ve just found myself more. Like the 23-year-old you met years ago, I am still somewhat wayward and searching, but I know myself better. I know what’s important to me, and what compromises I don’t want to make. I’m seeking closer daily communication with nature, with community, with a slower pace and fresh air. Though you still provide thrills, the daily efforts and financial burden  of living here are no longer worth it. And I’m OK with that. Though if you told 23-year old me that one day she would feel this way she might be disappointed in her decidedly less-hip older self. There’s a pride in surviving this city. For those that call it home, I understand. But I can’t imagine it ever feeling like home. Continue reading →