I got in.

Well, I got in. I was accepted in to the one and only school that I applied to. The eighth-oldest school in America. (Which, b-t-dubbs, is way cooler than being the ninth-oldest.) When I found out, a huge weight- I'm talking astronomically large- lifted off my shoulders and I suddenly didn't feel like such a schmo. I have a purpose again. I have a reason for being here, other than to be near my incredible significant other. I have something that is just for me. And, yes, I still have a few hoops to jump through and 6 months of waiting for my first semester to do, not to mention that I'll most likely be paying off student loans until I die... but the hardest part is over. I got in.
People ask me if being here is everything I ever thought it would be. In a lot of ways, it's not. In a lot of other ways, it's more. I would say the most difficult part is waking up in the morning. (Not the butt-crack of dawn waking up that I barely do to kiss my love goodbye, but the later waking up that happens when the sun has already risen and I consider myself human again.)
It's quiet in this house when he's gone. All I hear is the gentle drips of the radiator in the bedroom. Sometimes the sun shines through the blinds, sometimes it doesn't. It's on these quiet mornings that I miss home the most. I miss my morning routine of snuggles with my two little furry BFFs and coffee with my mom. I miss getting in the car and not having to GPS where the nearest gas station or grocery store is. (I also miss people not trying to run me over on the road. Come on, New Jersey. Drive better.) I miss being able to call my best friend up for a gym session and lunch. And, okay, I kind of miss not having to put on seventeen layers of clothing to take out the trash. Guys, it's that cold.
But other times, when it's more, I'm driving the streets of my new town in complete awe at the world around me. Never did I see myself living in a place with this much snow everywhere. It transforms wherever it falls in a way that can only be described as pure magic. The sharpness of the cold air when I step outside surprises me less and less as the days go by and I actually caught myself calling our 38 degree weather yesterday "warm". Going in to the city on Valentine's Day... that was a day that was so much more.
It took exactly one hour from the time we left our train station down the street to arrive smack in the center of Manhattan. Everyone there is in such a hurry; places to go, people to see. They walk around there so fast it's like they don't even see how amazing that city is anymore. I stopped on 7th Avenue, just outside of Penn Station and Madison Square Garden. Stopped and allowed the amazement to wash over me. Then I did it again in Times Square. Again in the pub where we ate lunch and Irish coffees- the one from How I Met Your Mother. Again on our romantic, snow-storm walk through Central Park. And again just before we left when we each consumed what was probably the worst hot dog we had ever eaten. But according to me, if you're eating a terrible hot dog in the middle of New York City- you're still doing alright.