The theme this week seems to be missing Philly, and New York City.
Whenever I look at this photo, I am transported back to spring 2013.
It breaks my heart.
March 26, to be exact, just three days after my 22nd birthday. This was another brief visit to one of my favorite cities in the world, one I’ve visited plenty times in the 3.5 years I was in Philly. The goal was to watch a Broadway show, but somehow we ended up walking along the streets of Brooklyn and before we realized it, we were on the walking path of Brooklyn Bridge. In typical Big Apple fashion, there were hundreds of people and we tried not to lose sight of each other.
Two girls, two guys and the city that never sleeps.
The day before was disgusting – wet, gloomy and cold – but this particular day was breathtakingly beautiful. Sunny, clear skies and despite the tension-filled morning, by the afternoon we were much more relaxed. It was spring break after all – being pressed for time was definitely not in the agenda. We had too much to eat and needed to timeout – a supposedly short walk seemed like a fantastic idea. “But we’re already here,” I pointed out to them when we realized exactly where we ended up, “Why not? Let’s cross it!” So we did.
We walked along the bridge, stopping occasionally to take photos and in the blur of that moment, I’d quickly snapped this photo. My favorite kind of photography, honestly, has always been landscape and solid structures. I love inanimate objects and often find myself marveling, ogling and in awe at massive engineering structures such as the above. They remind me exactly why I’m sticking to engineering school, problem sets and endless stressful quarters be damned.
This photo captured that day so succinctly.
The clear, blue skies. Beautiful, sunny day. The massive structure, firm and proud. The juxtapose of the backdrop of blue skies with the structural cobwebs is a sight to behold; man versus The Divine. Caged and liberation. Inside, looking out. The past, divided by an impenetrable anatomy.
I was with three of my closest friends, the best kind of company. For a split second, reality hit – I remembered that this was the last time. A sense of an ending. If this was the end, I thought to myself, then it was glorious. The best way to close a chapter. I smiled, and continued to walk beside them.
Now I’m here, and this yearning, pining and ache – my heart hurts.
I refuse to allow myself to fly back to Philly for Thanksgiving or December break, even if for once, time will be on my side. Apart from the expensive flight ticket, I’m much too aware that it’s an emotional decision – I refuse to allow myself to go ahead with this. I’ve asked myself, “Is this how it always will be? Will I always pine and yearn for the years that have passed, for the has been and what was?”
I want to toughen up – to overcome. It’s that word again; have you contemplated about it, too?
Then there’s another truth – I’m scared. Forever the coward, perhaps I am scared to discover that friends I’m missing are in truth, chugging along in their lives just fine. Maybe I’m also scared of another reality – that perhaps what I’m yearning and pining for, is simply a figment of my memory.
Whatever that it is – it is no longer there.
I am no longer there.
“I tell myself, who became a memory;
I’m officially missing you.”
– Team A or WINNER, Officially Missing You