I always say New York is like a best friend you are constantly in a fight with- somedays thrilling, irresistible, bursting with energy and opportunity- glowing so brightly and with such fervor that you can't help but revel in a deep sense of awe, adoration, and appreciation. But other times it is dark, difficult, tiring, isolating- even maddening- to the point that if you have to wait one more minute for the N train in a sea of lonely figures in Times Square you might just melt into the dirty platform and never return. Of course you don't, because love (as we all know) has an inexplicable way of bringing us back to certain people and places.
Recently, New York and I had hit a rough patch, and it turns out Peyton, Betsy, and Lily were also craving a weekend away. We rented a car and headed out of the city to Peyton's beautiful house on a hill in Charlottesville, Virginia. Turns out open road + fresh air + red wine + s'mores + a history lesson (we visited Montecello!) + movie marathons + long walks + home cooked meals is good for the soul. We had the best time, and the quick trip gave us hope that spring is real and its on it way. And as we cruised up the New Jersey turnpike towards the city, every mile its glimmering skyline becoming increasingly intoxicating , I knew that, once again, New York and I had all but made up.