I’ve been mulling something over for a while. I think I’ve finally realized what I’m feeling, but I’m no closer to being able to explain it than I was when I first started experiencing the tugging in my heart. So I think I’ll pull on some threads here and see what I uncover.

I am homesick for New York. There. I’ve said it. And as a Bostonian it pains me a smidge, but I miss New York and I am eager to get back.

I think I’ve been wrestling with this reality because it feels confusing and makes me feel…slightly guilty somehow? I don’t miss Salem or Boston or Munich or Virginia this way, and I actually lived in those places for extended important periods of time. I recognize that I am having this revelation in another amazing city (it’s not you, Buenos Aires, it’s me.) And I am aware and delighted that I have several VERY cool places to experience between now and October (and I mean REALLY, REALLY COOL. Looking at you Tokyo and Stockholm). But I think the fact remains: I am drawn to NYC. Its vortex pull is strong and inexplicable. I dream of being in New York. I wake up picturing places I walk in New York. I think about my gym (MY gym) in New York and wonder how the renovations went. After our tango lessons last night I startled myself by googling where we could dance tango in Manhattan. Come on! Get a grip, Kim. You’ve had one lesson! You won’t be in New York again until the fall. What is going on with you?

I don’t know. Maybe the connection is the season. I loved our time there last fall. Despite several shorter visits to NYC throughout my life (maybe a dozen or more), I imprinted on the two months we stayed there. I wonder if I’m nostalgic because here in Argentina it is turning to autumn, and autumn in a big city has a certain feel, a certain smell, a certain light. Maybe it’s the noises of the city here: the sirens, the constant beeping of garages warning of exiting vehicles, the honking of busses and cars and trucks, the scooters and motorcycles buzzing. Maybe it’s the rhythm of this place. Talk about a city that never sleeps! Maybe it’s the architecture and designs that reflect the similar growth and prosperity timelines that NYC and BA shared at the early parts of the 20th century. Maybe it’s just the daily city living that’s just a constant reminder that I’m not in New York, and I won’t be feeling this longing as much when we are in Utah or Montana or New Hampshire. Hard to say. But right now I’m not in New York and it feels like a toothache.