limbo; noun, [lim-boh]

  1. (often initial capital letter) Roman Catholic Theology. a region on the border of hell or heaven, serving as the abode after death of unbaptized infants and of the righteous who died before the coming of Christ.
  2. a place or state of oblivion to which persons or things are regarded as being relegated when cast aside, forgotten, past, or out of date.
  3. an intermediate, transitional, or midway state or place.
  4. a place or state of imprisonment or confinement.

It doesn’t take much to wind up lost here, and in turn, it is easy to lose yourself along the way. Perhaps it’s this sensation of being in limbo between destinations: I’ve arrived, yet I haven’t unpacked, and I’ve seen the city, but mostly as a tourist. I haven’t tried any street food or been to hidden corners. I haven’t felt anything other than the heat of sweaty travelers and the occasional brush of a stranger’s shirt while crossing streets. I’ve been going to restaurants with 4+ star ratings on Yelp because my parents are cautious (for their own understandable reasons). It’s not that I want to be free—I already am, in a sense—but I want to be alone. Alone in this glittering, restless place.

This city gives you everything, and you’re devoured if you don’t know where or how to start. It doesn’t feel like home yet; I can fall in love with Central Park, but a one night stand is not the same as a developed relationship. Of course, everything will come with time, but the anticipation is making me anxious. I’ll be able to find solid ground in a few days.

That being said, I don’t have a piano to practice on. I don’t know what to do with my hands.