It felt like a summer weekend. Dusk was approaching but the sun was still out to play, as well as teenagers enjoying their evening with no care in the world because it was a Saturday. I seen friends passing by in their cars, all dressed up with the windows rolled down, laughing, enjoying the cool breeze. It was one of the first nice days of Spring and instead of being on a girl’s night out or a date. I was on my way home from Home Depot after buying moving boxes. As I enviously watched the streets of my hometown and I wished I was outside with those kids. Running around causing trouble until our parents called us home because the sidewalks were lit by only the moon and street lights. Another car rolled by diverting my attention from the group of teens waiting at the bus stop. It was a young couple obviously on their way to go out somewhere and I thought about the endless possibilities of where that could be and envisioned myself chatting it up with them, sitting in the back seat. Leaving Queens for good was going to be such a bittersweet feeling. I spent my entire life here. I remember trips to all the different parks nearby as a little girl. All the fun as a teenager toying with the line between innocent and bad. And as always but especially as an adult the time cherished with family and friends. When I got home I reflected on that for a while. Staring at the yellow walls once white tinged from the years of my great grandmother and great-great-uncle smoking, the pale yellow rug once orange now worn down from years of cleaning, and the old furniture that never moved out of place with a touch of my decor. This was my home and not only the apartment that my family lived in for decades but New York. And I'd soon be leaving all of this behind. I became overwhelmed with sadness realizing this feeling wasn't temporary. That once I packed these boxes it was goodbye forever. After a few nights of having friends and family over. I was all alone in this soon to be empty house, packing. Picking up what felt like pieces of my life. I had spent time at home reminiscing with my loved ones but it was finally time to say goodbye on my own. I picked up an old yearbook and a bottle of wine and began drowning myself with nostalgia. I started to fear that if I went on to leave this place I’d lose my childhood, I’d lose the love that was cultivated in this house, the laughter, and even... myself.
As I continued to pack my things I found a letter. It was one I wrote to my mom years ago and hadn’t seen it in just as long. From a turbulent time, and it was less or a letter and more of a plea. A plea for my mom to move us out of the state. I told her we needed a fresh start, that it was time to move on from New York City and here I was doing so. I instantly started to ball my eyes out and then the tears suddenly stopped. Seeping into my skin as acknowledgment. This was not something to be sad about, I should be excited and proud. I was able to fulfill the desires of my younger self, it was a sign of growth. The universe was telling me to let go, to move on. I made my peace and said goodbye, continued taping boxes, raised my glass, and said goodnight.
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