Past Perfect

    I had a tumultuous last day, which involved not enough sleep, a little bit of packing, a walk on the Highline, some very expensive macarons (you really can't get proper ones here, no matter what my French host mom's boyfriend says), and an unforseen LGBTQIA pride parade (which is the best kind). It was the first one I'd ever attended, and the energy was infectious, even if the music was a little too loud. This is technically a community that I'm part of, so it was nice to feel at least a little bit involved, if only for a few hours.
    All-in-all, it was a nice goodbye to the city, which I had actually grown fairly fond of over the month I'd been there. I'd walked across a lot of it (not really, but it felt like it), found a comfort zone there, and developed a sense of ownership through working in a building that tourists take pictures of. I had found something I was good at in a really iconic location. I had lived in New York City, and I hadn't actually been horribly scarred by it. It had even been fun.
   I'm not entirely sure why this blog ended up in past perfect, but there it is.
   It's not like I won't be back to New York City. I will. Probably in a few weeks. And it's not like I'll never work in editing again. I've been invited back to the Daily Bugle for next summer. Maybe I'll do that. Maybe I'll actually intern for Marvel, so I can get paid for my geeky ways. In any case, I'll be back.
    And it's been real.