Dear Cobble Hill,
It hasn’t even been 24 hours since I left, but admittedly, I’m already thinking about you. I don’t like to compare or pick favorites, as everyone has their own set of unique qualities — but I prefer yours most.
You came into my life when I needed you most. When I didn’t know exactly what I needed — apart from the sole fact I needed to leave Manhattan.
I was infatuated with Manhattan as most naive 22-year-olds are — as many people are. There’s a certain allure about the glitz and the glam that pierces straight to the deepest desires in our hearts. But so often where we find desire, beneath it, lies pain — we just haven’t flipped it over.
As I continued to look inward, to flip my desires over, I became disillusioned with the path I was on. Became disillusioned with staying with Manhattan. No longer did streets that didn’t seem to end, glass spires that reached the sky, or swarms of people excite me like they once did. For as much as Manhattan seemed to once offer me freedom, I now felt suffocated.
When all I wanted to do was slow down, all she wanted to do was speed up.
Towards what I wonder?
“In this moment, current state, I feel so alive, so free, so at peace. All the ego, anxious/wandering thoughts, are quelled in the beauty of this moment. Sitting here, fully present, in control of myself and my life, journaling as the sun goes down.”
4-12-22
I don’t know if you recall, but we actually met, of all days, on my birthday. I had planned a day to celebrate myself, one that would entail visiting the borough “Brooklyn” for the first time. There, someone whispered, “Go talk to Williamsburg.”
Williamsburg was pleasant to talk to, but I didn’t really connect with her. I shot for depth but only got the surface. She seemed to be more focused on finding a good time rather than finding herself. Not much different from Manhattan, apart from some trendier outfits.
As my conversation with Williamsburg cluttered to a halt, I started to shift my gaze, only for it to stop — there you were.
Something about you caught my attention, which I can only describe in hindsight. It wasn’t what you were wearing (though you make simple look stunning), rather, the way you carried yourself with those around you. A small crowd followed you like a shadow — as is the case when all you are is light.
I stood there motionless, observing from afar. Despite holding court, you listened and spoke to one individual at a time. Gave your undivided presence in a way that makes them feel like the only person in the room — because at that moment, to you, they are.
A presence that cannot be seen, only felt.
I noticed you excuse yourself to take a moment, a pause — something I recognize in myself when I push my social battery. I gave myself a beat to think about whether or not to approach you, as I’m seriously not “that kind of guy”, but my feet had already decided for me.
As we made eye contact, you smiled with equal parts curiosity and familiarity. Though strangers, you embraced me with a warmth that melted away any hesitations I had. As we spoke through the night, sharing stories and deeply connecting, we were the only people in the room.
I didn’t say it then, but I say it now — I was already falling in love with you.
To my surprise (and no surprise), you also weren’t fond of late nights, but rather, early mornings. As we parted ways, I knew it wasn’t “goodbye”, but “see you later.” I wasn’t sure when I’d see you next, but I hoped it was sooner rather than later.
“I’m so grateful to have found this slice of heaven in NYC, as it genuinely energizes me and enables me to start building the sense of comfort, belonging.”
“Of home.”8-8-22 — 9:14 AM
Early morning walks and window shopping.
Almond croissants and journaling in the park.
Coffee and people-watching along Court Street.
Every moment of the past year has been nothing but joy — a rarity among the relationships I observe with people my age. But perhaps that says more about us, rather than them. For when there is mutual self-love and respect, there need not be pain and bitterness, even when things come to an end.
Though we were only together for one year, you helped me transform in more ways I can describe. You never pressured me to change, but rather, supported me as I did. Provided consistency as I iterated on myself and my life.
When I think about our relationship and what you taught me, only as I sit here now, hundreds of miles away, can I put it in words.
I’ve often heard love described as a sensation of “coming home.” As someone who grew up in an emotionally turbulent household, I’ve always had difficulty understanding that notion. It made sense in theory, but not in my own application.
How does the saying go? You find love when you stop searching for it, often when you least expect it?
You came into my life when I needed you most. When I didn’t know exactly what I needed.
I needed breathing room, you created space.
I needed solitude, you gave me stillness.
I needed freedom, you let me be.
I’m starting to realize what “home” means, at least to me.
A place where you can be fully yourself, not pressured to be anyone else.
Empowered to pursue your dreams, supported each step along the way.
Return to, no matter how long has passed or how far you’ve traveled, and still be loved all the same.
Cobble Hill, thank you for being you.
Thank you for being home.
🔮 Weekly Wonders
🎁 Community Piece
Long-term friendships can be both amazing and difficult to maintain at the same time. Especially when those friendships started at a young age.
You meet someone when you are young. You bond over a shared interest (music, sports, hobbies, etc.). The friendship blossoms quickly as you spend the endless free time you have as a kid together. You feel seen. You feel heard. You feel as if the friendship will be lifelong.
Eventually as you both grow older, an external force might force a wedge between that closeness you have both felt over the years. One of you might quit the sport you initially bonded over. You might both go off to colleges that are on opposite coasts. Regardless of the reason, you find that the person that was always top of mind, is no longer. They are no longer the first person you rush to share exciting news with anymore. They are no longer the person you FaceTime when you are bored or feeling down.
Then you decide you miss the friendship and reach out to spend time together. The time comes and you listen to them update you on what they have been up to and what they are pursuing these days. In that moment, you realize that at some point in your individual journeys, you two became two completely different people with little in common anymore.
Most people’s first instinct in this situation is to let that wedge that started forcing its way between you two to drive deeper separation. The infrequent life update texts to each other turn into only yearly happy birthday texts. The yearly happy birthday texts turn into the person becoming a distant memory that pops into your brain every now and then.
Great friendships are built on loyalty. Loyalty means always standing by each other’s sides regardless of what has (or hasn’t) occurred between you two. Loyalty means accepting each other’s faults for what they are and helping each other become better versions of yourselves. Loyalty means relearning how to continue the friendship, love and patience that have been built over the years as you both evolve into the person you were always meant to become.
Becoming a different person than you were at a young age is not a bad thing — it’s part of life. Being a great friend and a genuine person means never forgetting the loyalty that was silently vowed / implied throughout the years of friendship.
—R
💡 Idea
On Learning How To Be Alone, Because The Love You Find Within Yourself Will Be Yours Forever
💬 Quote
🔎 Question
Where do you call home? What are the little things you love about it?
How can you create a sense of home wherever you are?