Entry 6.1 / 18th June 2022
I woke up on Saturday deeply refreshed and excited. My alarm rang out, and I quickly leapt up, so swiftly that I felt my head spin a little and turned it off. Glancing over at Becky’s bed, I wondered if she would be up for the planned outing that we had all organised. I wasn’t sure if any of those who went out last night would be joining us today. As, from briefly waking up in the night when Becky returned, they were all out pretty late.
Nevertheless, that wouldn’t stop me, and I got up, starting to get ready for the day.
***
Fortunately, a few people who went out the previous night weren’t too hungover the next day, and I was joined by a couple of individuals to go to NYC. Despite the growing bumbling excitement, everyone remained quite relaxed.
I wasn’t too sure how to feel. On the exterior, I probably looked more excited than a priest on Christmas Day. But internally… I couldn’t wrap my head around it. It was only merely two months ago that I sat with my Dad in a pub across the street from where I lived, with my flatmate by my side, telling him that I would be going to America for three months.
I didn’t truly believe at the time that it was going to happen.
And it was even more unbelievable that it was happening.
The uncertainty of it all gnawed at me. Do I deserve this? It was a question that had been etched into my mind for the last few years. The years of… contentment. Peace. Or as close to peace as one can get without being dead.
I hate the word happy. That term felt like a significant mockery, repeatedly applied to describe my past self. However, I believe that, up until recently, the sense of contentment I experienced over the last four years was as close to happiness as I have ever come.
But then, events occurred that made me see life in a different way. Even though I was content, was I fulfilled? Could I honestly say, fifty years from now, as I’m sitting in front of a TV, unable to move much because everything aches, that I had done everything I ever wanted? That I challenged myself and reached my full potential. That I risked everything to get much closer to that feeling of true happiness?
After posing those questions, the contentment I had been experiencing suddenly didn’t seem enough.
But do I deserve more?
‘Maybe the real question should be why don’t you believe you deserve more?’ The responsible voice spoke softly within me as I watched the train windows darken entering the Grand Central Station tunnels.
Fortunately, I didn’t have much time to dwell on that hard-hitting question as the train came to a stop, and everyone around me wore broad smiles.
“Ready?” Courtney asked from beside me.
I let the excitement wash over me finally as I matched her smile. “Totally.”
***
Grand Central Station was exactly as my fifteen-year-old self remembered it: busy, dimly lit yet overwhelmingly bright, chaotic yet enchanting. Admittedly, this time around, I was able to fully take it in – appreciating the architecture and artwork. I felt a twinge of shame as I realised that, despite my initial recognition, I couldn’t recall the ceiling artwork from my previous visit.
It was moments like these that made me want to slap my younger self.
However, at the same time, maybe that’s what made this second-first sight more special – observing and noticing things that escaped my attention the first time around.
We lingered at Grand Central Station for a while, capturing photos and discussing where to head next.
As we made our way out, the decision was unanimous – our first stop would be Times Square, given its proximity and iconic status.
As we strolled through the areas, I found myself scanning the surroundings, attempting to recall if I had walked these streets before. While it’s likely I had, the memories were either fuzzy or the areas had undergone significant changes since my teenage years. One distinct recollection about these streets was my consistent stumbling over a gap in the ground that seemed to have been struck by the Hulk.
I doubt that’s still there.
Before I knew it, we had rounded the corner and my eyes laid on Times Square for the second-first time.
‘OH MY GOD!’ The bright voice screamed in my head, rivalling the sounds of the busy New York streets. ‘LOOK! IT’S TIMES SQUARE! IT’S TIME SQUARE! LOOK!’
I frowned, shaking off the wincing that was forming. Bloody hell, people call me loud.
(I’m seriously debating renaming you the loud voice.
‘Hey! That’s not nice!’)
The enthusiasm behind the bright voice was justified. It was Times Square, after all, with all its vibrant charm – though a somewhat disorderly charm if you spare a glance at the ground below. However, as we approached, a tinge of disappointment began to seep in.
It’s looks… smaller.
Both my recollections and the films had deceived me. They painted Times Square as this radiant, enchanting, and vast expanse. In reality? It was cramped, somewhat unclean, and bustling. However… it retained its magic, albeit in a distinctive manner. Despite its hectic nature and the fact it could be brighter at night, you couldn’t help but be captivated by it. You felt like you were genuinely part of something – a mere individual in the crowd, predominantly comprised of tourists.
We snapped photos of each other, and at one point, a professional photographer captured me in the midst of my impromptu photoshoot on my phone. I politely declined the pictures he took, satisfied with my iPhone shots.
Soon, we were moving onwards, finding a subway station to take us to Central Park.
The subways were both exactly as I remembered and as I expected – hot, crowded, and a bit uncomfortable. We were saved from the heat once inside the actual subway, as air conditioning was a must in America. We all chatted amongst ourselves, with Courtney and Lewis on subway direction duty as they knew which subway to take and when to get off.
Eventually, we found ourselves in Central Park.
‘CENTRAL PARK!’ I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. ‘I’LL BE THERE FOR YOU! WHEN THE RAIN STARTS TO –’
Okay! I get the point!
To be honest, I was not not acting in a somewhat similar way.
“Oh my god!” I squealed excitedly, hanging onto Courtney’s arm briefly as I outwardly expressed my excitement. “I can’t believe we’re finally here! I finally get to see Central Park!”
Courtney raised an eyebrow with her growing smirk. “Haven’t you already been to here before?”
I frowned with a small nod. “Technically yes. But it was February time, which meant a lot of snow and coldness. We didn’t really get a chance to fully explore the park due to that, only briefly walking through it.”
Courtney shot me a small sad smile. “Well, we’re here for the next few months. Plenty of time to explore.”
We all ended up sitting on top of a large rock that reminded me a lot of Pride Rock from The Lion King. After taking a set of photos, we all relaxed temporarily. As I sat with them, I was grateful to have listened to Lewis that morning and brought my backpack instead of the small bag I bought the other day. Not only was it a good way to carry around water – which I had been drowning in since we stepped onto the New York streets – but it also provided extra room for me to stuff the denim jacket that I decided to bring.
“Bet you’re regretting that now.” Courtney commented once I fully stuffed said denim jacket into my backpack.
I shook my head. “Nah. I like bringing some kind of jacket or cardigan with me, even on hot days. Makes me feel more secure, like a security blanket.”
We hung around on the large rock for a bit before it got more crowded. Slowly, started walking through Central Park, admiring all the beauty that nature had created. Obviously, photos were taken in the process, but I felt a bond, small and light, developing between our group. Even if we didn’t remain close or long-life friends, there would be a bond there that we could look back on with the fond memories of our first exploration of New York City together.
***