I’m sitting at work and I have music playing and “You Matter to Me” from the musical Waitress comes up next in my shuffled playlist. When I saw the play, I sobbed during this song. Mostly because I was meant to see the play with my boyfriend and instead was seeing it with my little brother, but mostly because I feel so close to the lyrics.
It’s addictive the minute you let yourself think
The things that I say just might matter to someone
All of this time I’ve been keeping my mind on the running away
And for the first time I think I’d consider the stay
I’ve lived as a disgruntled New York-er for the last 26 years, and since leaving home for college, I spent countless hours figuring out the fastest and farthest route as possible. After college, I moved back home, and for two years I calculated and saved so that I could leave – so that I could run away. I’m always looking for my first chance to run away, but what would I run to? Where would I run to? I ran to Connecticut because my family hated my boyfriend (rightfully so), and then I ran home to New York because I missed my family terribly and he wasn’t asking me to stay. Rather than confront that issue and dump him, I ran away to safety. It’s refreshing to surround myself with people who are going to tell me how they are feeling and actually have a conversation about it. Words matter, but when two people don’t talk about the words said, then a frightening distance is built.
Since being back – in New York, on Long Island, in my hometown, in my parents’ house – I have been working to find myself, my passions, my addictions, and so much more. I’ve been working on this year long journey and I know I have handed out small hints here and there, but I can’t wait to share my thoughts and discoveries from this past year here with all of your because I have learned that are so many other things that truly matter in my life, and I find myself wanting to find a place for myself here in New York. There are certain people I am willing to stick around for, but I am terrified they don’t feel the same way. What I’m most terrified of is getting comfortable again because that’s usually when the rug is pulled from under my feet and everything changes again. I can either get too comfortable and I lose it all or I become so uncomfortable that I surrender everything, pack my bags, and leave it all behind to live on without me. But, I don’t want to run anymore. I want to find stable ground on which to call home, and maybe stability will bring me what my heart desires most.