I flew back from Pittsburgh to JFK last night at 6pm. I wasn't entirely sure how I'd feel going back after all this time. I felt as if I was supposed to feel some specific way - maybe fearful or excited or shameful(?). I mostly felt nauseous.

I stayed with R in an old, partially unfinished house that was probably built (according to the owners) somewhere around 1895. The most recent association I have with the city of Pittsburgh is that I've begun to romanticize owning a house there. Staying in this semi-built home surprisingly reinforced this idea.

I felt in full the feelings of peace that I had glimpses of while living there for 5 years. Something about the air there (possibly the elevation) and presence of trees calms me down. The public pool was nearly empty by New York standards and we mostly laid in the sun.

Something I realized on this trip that I never seemed to notice before is how small the city is. Everything is roughly 15 minutes away from any given location. Each neighborhood feels distinct while driving which I think creates the illusion of scale. It feels like we had to pass through 4 or 5 biomes to reach the next destination.

Feeling sick while visiting someone you care about is a dull, painful experience. I wish I didn't feel that way. I think some of my symptoms were entirely mental - caused by a range of emotions from being out of my routine, seeing new people, and feeling uneasy. Some of it was probably due to the food I was eating. Who knows. I just wish I felt normal during that trip. I feel like I was caught up in selfishness, not in a malicious way but in a "I keep thinking about how I am acting and feeling right now" way.

I spent $500 in those five days, mostly on vintage clothes for R and I.