If home is where the heart is, from time to time I suffer with a broken heart. I predict an overseas foray soon… missing the thrum and rhythm and pace and scents and sounds and whirr that is New York. And my family still there.
Discussing the pox that befalls those of us who leave home in search of the big wide world is strictly taboo. Our torn hearts. Our lonely midnight pondering over being born in a place and living there your whole life. All that belonging and being part of. For us, it’s all about the glamour and excitement – at least that’s our public profile. I’ve got to keep it up. Fortunately New York is glamorous enough on its own. No point in pitying the people from Podunk – it happens to folks to shift to the next town over.