Conversations I’m not Having

I’m sitting in an overpriced coffee shop in the Lower West Side. Haven’t had coffee in months, and somehow the foam-filled oat milk with whiskey-infused beans feels magical. Still can’t convince myself it’s worth the $15.

I miss home. I miss music. I miss being around people I actually love. I miss the comfort of not being anxious all the time, of not overthinking what I’ll eat in the morning.

The subway is great. My thoughts right now - not so much. Evenings in Brooklyn can feel ridiculously lonely. It’s also really weird walking around a city this big and not running into anyone I know. No casual “let’s catch up sometime soon.” No familiar faces at the jazz clubs. Back home, you couldn’t step out without meeting someone or at least someone who knows someone.

Here, it’s just me. And strangers. Attractive strangers. Seriously, how are people here this good-looking? Or maybe I’m just spending too much time people-watching.

Some nights stretch out longer than they should, and New York sometimes feels more like background noise than anything else.

For now, I guess I’ll just take the small wins - like this overpriced cup of coffee that tastes like a little piece of home.