I think that many of these thoughts have been brought about by the realization that change isn't just something in the far-off future. Rather, it's something that's actually happening. The idea of having to check things in New York off of some list, whether real or metaphorical, makes me unbelievably sad. The other day Kate and I walked the Brooklyn Bridge as part of our "things to do before leaving New York" project, and I found myself being so melancholy. My life here has been trying, yes, but certain parts of it can only be described as beautiful, vital, and epic. Thinking about leaving those parts behind is like thinking about losing a limb. It was almost enough to make me not appreciate the wonder of the bridge. I do feel like, for me, the bridge has been colored by these ruminations. In fact, maybe it's a fitting image. A bridge is both a barrier and a passageway, an end and a beginning... It's just the sense of endings that makes me teary.
"It had been the yearning of his heart to find something to anchor on, to cling to—for some place which he could call admirable. Should he find that place in this city if he could get there?" ~Thomas Hardy
"Whence comes solace? Not from seeing, what is doing, suffering, being; Not from noting Life’s conditions, not from heeding Time’s monitions; But in cleaving to the Dream, and in gazing at the Gleam whereby gray things golden seem." ~Thomas Hardy