A group of NYU cross country runners pours out of the side track, and if there is any sign of fall it is this. Everything returns: the river is busy, the dating app is busy, the subway is busy, my muscles are busy, it’s been two and a half years of hibernation and now we are coming back to whatever life was meant to be but wasn’t. I don’t know where to start so I revert to working too many hours. For the first time in such a long time I think I am okay. It’s a strange feeling when your bones don’t recognize it.
Another ticket lies in my back pocket. It’s time to pack again. It’s time to arrive again.
It’s time to live
again.
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