By Freddie Zamora

After knowing I was going to be able to go home to New York City last Columbus Day weekend, I was more than elated. I was going to be back with my family and close friends for the first time since I left for Boston – but little did I know Boston had some big effects on me.

Ever since I came here, I noticed little similarities with New York. New York is known for its ritzy glamour, while Boston is very small in comparison. I didn’t think Boston would ever be a match to New York.

After my first few weeks in Boston, I desperately wanted to go back to my home – to that ritzy glamour.

It wasn’t until I was in the plane when the uniqueness of my time in Boston hit me. While departing from Logan Airport, I noticed the Boston skyline for the first time. It left me feeling a sense of progression. I felt as if my going back to New York would be taking a few steps backwards; trying to get away from what is my future.

It was a warm, tranquil day when I departed from my dorm to the airport, but once I got to New York’s LaGuardia Airport, it was cold and rainy, and continued to be that way throughout my stay there.

It felt a little odd being back in my house. Even though it was very pleasant to be in the presence of those dearest to me, I felt that I was out of place. It felt a little bizarre sleeping in the bed I had been sleeping in for a number of years again, and having to abide by my parents’ rules. It is now subconsciously engraved in my mind that I am allowed to do anything I please.

I would tell stories to friends about the experiences I had in Boston my first few weeks, and that made me want to come back even more. Even while I was in New York, I called people back in Boston to see how they were doing – even though I would be gone only a few days.

I wasn’t as accustomed to my friends back home as much as I was in the past. I had encountered new things, broadened my horizons here, and really wanted to go back to live my life in Boston, rather than hanging around my neighborhood, being the same person I’ve always been. Even though it was only for a few weeks, my habits had changed a bit, and I grew used to the routine I had here.

That rainy Saturday afternoon, I walked down Fifth Avenue and Rockefeller Center. I noticed that the sidewalks were way too congested. Everything seemed so enormous to me. I had grown accustomed to having a comfortable, serene environment