I am convinced that there is no place prettier in the fall than New England. Last weekend, I took a solo trip to New York City and though I fell asleep for most of the bus ride, I woke up in time to catch a glimpse of the leaves changing color. The colors came in flashes and the trees seem endless along the highway.
This wasn’t a trip I took because I had pressing business in New York, it was a trip I took because I felt like I needed it. As much as I love being in Boston, after knowing it for so long, it seems small and too familiar. I began to realize that I miss going to new places, where I felt uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable, like wearing an itchy turtleneck. Uncomfortable, like trying a new place to eat without reading all the Yelp reviews.
I felt trapped by comfort, going to the same restaurants and walking down the same roads. I’ve gotten into this routine of bouncing back and forth between places I know without really branching off into anything new. Going to New York by myself was a little taste of new. Its not like I’ve never been before or didn’t know anyone there, it’s just a city I haven’t known for long enough to be at ease navigating the streets by myself without Google maps.
Next semester, I’ll be diving into a place that is completely different. A place that I’ve never been before, I know no one at and have only seen through the internet. Living in London will be more than just something I can cross off my bucket list or tell my future kids about. I’ve realized that I’m the sort of person that wants to go to a new place, become at ease with life and than yanked out to go somewhere new. I often find myself wanting to be uncomfortable, but not being brave enough to put myself in the situation.
Well, I’ve put myself in that situation now. Part of me fears leaving behind a life that I’ve known so well. I know that when I come back, things will not be the same. Unlike other groups of friends, me and my friends have all decided to study abroad during different semesters (as you can see, we like challenges). I know that this will probably be the last semester that I get with all the people I care about. The last time we can be semi-carefree before our diplomas are given and we’re stuck at a nine to five job (that is if we’re lucky enough to find one).
That’s the scary thing about being in your twenties. Everything is changing so quickly and sometimes it always feels like you’re a step behind. Yet, when you’re trying to catch up, you simply miss out on the things in front of you. Has anyone ever won this war?
Well, I guess those who survived to their 30s must of figured it out.
Bloody hell and best wishes,