I lived there for three years five years ago.
I loved it.
It was a dream fulfilled for me.
It was a great time of my life.
Great yummy food.
Awesome public transportation.
But I hated the cold winters.
I hated wearing a thick coat for months at a time.
I hated how expensive housing was.
I hated dating city guys.
I still enjoy visiting and try to do it once per year.
Last year, I had a meltdown before going so I did not make it.
In 2008, we had the wedding and then Roger died and thus I did not make it.
On this visit, I was overwhelmed with memories.
Memories of my life before Roger existed.
Before I was a widow.
A time when I was just free.
They were everywhere and connected to everything.
I felt a little out of place while I was in NYC.
I felt like I did not quite fit like I used to.
Not like I was a tourist but just different.
I quickly adjusted to NYC culture and small spaces.
I adjusted to the price of things.
To having cash instead of a debit card.
To eating fabulous food and drinking without having to drive.
But I felt off (and cold and wet due to crappy weather).
And then I had two separate friends at separate times say the worst things to me.
"You are not NYC material anymore."
"You could not do NYC again."
"You just don't fit."
Which is mostly true.
I left because I wanted to have a real house, routine, and find a real relationship.
I probably would have stayed at the time if I would have found a non-traveling job but I could not after searching for three months so off to Florida I went.
But I hate to be told I could not do something.
I am a bit stubborn.
After all I have been through, I can do pretty much anything I think.
I made it in NYC before. If I did it once, I could do it again.
But I do like my life in Florida.
I like having ample space.
I like having my friends here.
I like having Mr. X.
So I will visit once per year.
And later in life, if things change, perhaps I will do it again.
Because I can.