The last time I went to New York City, I went not in search of what I would discover in Manhattan, but in the escape of everything I would leave behind in Salt Lake City. I was running away from heartbreaks I didn’t understand, loves I wasn’t ready to let go of yet and a life I wasn’t sure where it was leading. I entered my favorite city with hopes of rejuvenation, which I found with feverishly flying colors, and returned with renewed spirit for life and a new dating prospect I’d met on the plane.
Today, in a bit of a whim (much like last time), I’m headed to New York City for the weekend.
This time I head toward New York City because, despite my fighting against it, I just can’t stay away. New York is where I fell in love with travel, where I discovered myself and my affection for crowded cities full of noise and strange smells. My passion for food was sparked here and my obsession with opera exploded in the seats of the Metropolitan Opera House. Instead of hiding from heartbreak, I’m running toward love :: my love of adventure, opera, food and everything that is New York City.
I crave being in New York City like some people crave chocolate. She popped into my head and I couldn’t shake the idea of her. Then I realized an opera I’ve been aching to see for years would be playing at the Metropolitan Opera House, starring one of the best sopranos in the business. I call these moments when I’m being inexplicably and uncontrollably pulled to places “perfect storms.” They are a tornado of ideas that swirl out of control until suddenly, before I know it, I’m on my way somewhere I hadn’t even planned to go.
Every time I step on a plane it’s like turning the page for a new adventure. There is a story waiting to unfold before me. Sometimes the story includes heartache and drama or even danger, but always with an element of excitement.
This will be my 11th trip to New York City, ten years to the day that I first stepped foot in the massive city. And I can’t wait to find out what my love has in store for me this time.