I'm sitting on a late train back home to New Jersey. The trees and streets outside liquify into a stream of blurry images. It's fairly packed, every seat filled. A couple sits next to me; they share a phone to look through pictures. I wear my headphones and I'm listening to The xx, a band I decided that would be the soundtrack to my new life. "VCR" is playing : "And we, we live half in the daytime"
Today was my first time in New York City by myself, which is a bit pitiful considering my age and how close it is.I managed to make it to orientation in time despite a few mishaps like getting off the subway at a wrong stop and walking in the opposite direction of The New School. I tried my best to look like a a confident New Yorker, but I'm sure I failed-- everything was too intense to take in; the pungent smell of urine mixing with my flowery perfume, Miss Dior, and the wave of people rushing through the streets, a rare sight back in my hometown in New Jersey. Orientation was fine, the dean mentioned how heavy Lang's infamous workload was (I don't even want to think of Parson's even heavier workload), and she quoted a mishmash of lines from famous poems about New York City. Lunch was free, always a plus, and I met a couple of people, their faces still fresh in my memory, their names a little blurrier. It was a big step for me to approach people considering how overly shy I am. People were nice, a little young compared to my age, but nice.
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"You used to have all the answers"
It was hard to explain to people why I transferred while not scaring them. It was too long of a story to explain to them the timeline of mistakes that finally led me to The New School. It was a fresh start for me, and a part of growing up was letting go--letting go of the times I had the time to watch old Nickelodeon cartoons with my brother, all the beach trips during summers, childhood stuff like that that I'm still nostalgic about, and it also meant letting go of the past that I hung onto so deeply.
"And you, you still have them too"
High school was behind me; it'd been three years, and I knew I would never be able to boost my GPA; in my imagination it would have led me to my dream school where I would have a normal college experience. Lots of "woulds," but they were all just perhaps, maybes, almosts. My real college experience consisted of a lonely year and a half while working two jobs. I felt like a ghost of sorts on campus at Drew. Drew was one of my many regrets, but I tried to let them go. It was time to move forward and live in the present.
"And we, we live half in night"
I couldn't see the stars in the night sky like the ones in my hometown while walking back to Penn station. The city lights were as beautiful as they are often described; the sight made it worth the obstacle of me trying to navigate the City. It took me a half hour to find the entrance to Penn Station despite getting off the subway at 34th street. I pictured the commute I would have to take for the entire next year and cringed, but I held onto the hope that it would pay off in the end. I thought of the excitement of what the future held: all the museums and art galleries and book stores I had always wanted to visit, and a constant access to Laduree for macarons. New York City was where dreams were made , shining brightly with all the city lights. It's a little too romantic of a view; the cynic reminded me there was more failures than successes. Still, I held onto the light and carried it forward.
"And you, you just know"
I arrived at Summit and exited the train station. There in front of me stood the silent downtown that had been such a big part of my life. I saw down the street the ice cream parlor where I’d worked for over three years, the Starbucks that had been a temporary home for me and my friends at one time, and the lush, thriving tree in the center of the street. It felt like a different world that was only slightly familiar. The moon was nearly full and I could see it now without all the tall buildings: it's a thick crescent surrounded by bundles of little stars and I recalled "VCR," and of all the people I'd encountered and would encounter;
"I think we're superstars."
