I know its been a while since I last wrote you, and believe me when I say that it’s not because of lack of motivation or desire. My new wifi doesn’t like me writing to you so I just stopped trying to fight the internet overlords. I hope you can forgive me for keeping you in the dark for so long.
A lot has happened since my last letter. I moved to a new city (I basically live in two places now), I’ve learned much about myself and who I was, and I finally went on vacation! I’m currently writing to you from my parents house in Puerto Rico.
Honestly, I can’t put into words how good it feels to be here. It’s new and exciting but familiar in a way; like I went on vacation for a few days and came back home. It’s sunny and warm and the wind brushes against my skin like a hug from an old friend.
I honestly wish I didn’t have to go back. Sure, I’ve gotten used to New York. To the small rural towns I lived in, to the cities I now live in, to the cold and the dry air, to only seeing plants that I grow myself, and to living in a place that will always feel strange. But to see my home and to feel the warmth that it brings is irreplaceable.
I was talking to my counselor the other day about how I feel lost. And I still feel this way, but now that I’m home (even if for a little while), it doesn’t feel scary. Back in New York, I felt lost and without the possibility of finding direction, but here, I feel like I’m not lost but wandering trying to find something new. I like this feeling a lot.
I wish I could just flip a switch and bring myself back to my island, but sadly that is not up to me. So I wonder, what if I could somehow bring this same wandering feeling with me to New York? Is it possible to not feel lost in a place I don’t know that well?
My dad used to say that the best way to find your way back to the road you were traveling is to just keep going forward, and that the best places are discovered when you turn down the wrong street. Sure, he was talking about driving, but this has a lot of wisdom for my current state. What if, instead of wanting to go back, I try to go forward? Wherever I find myself tomorrow, I think I’ll take his advice and just go forward. I might never tell him that, but I’m sure he’d be happy to hear that I’m finally taking his advice.
This might not be my longest letter, but I think it’s the one that just feels different. I hope you see that I’m growing and changing into something, someone, new. I wish you could let me know what you think.
I miss you friend. I’ll try to find a way to write to you more often.