Desire.

This strong wish to do something. This strange bubble in your heart just yearning to burst. It’s not a need, yet you want it terribly.

Desire gives you a purpose. It gives you a direction. It is a goal, but it is so much more than that. Because you desire only what you can’t get and would have to work bullocks to reach.

Desire could be a thing, a place, a guy or a girl, clothes, food or money. Anything, basically. But everyone has it. And we all know that yearn, that feeling of desire is so strong, that it fills us, it becomes us, it cuddles up in a corner of our mind until it is forced to leave, which is only when it is fulfilled or when hope dies.

Desire comes with hope. It comes with wishes and dreams and faith and love and obsession. It comes with those butterflies in your stomach and  that tremble in your knees. Desire fuels you. It propels you to work hard.

But desire also comes with excruciating pain. It comes with doubt and questions. It consumes you. And the worst part about it is, it does only two things. After burning you from inside, it either turns you to flames or ashes.

I live in a small city, but my desires are much bigger than the boundaries of this place. I have so many dreams. But the strongest out of all of them, the one that I think about every day, the one that refuses to abandon my mind and heart, the one that is just an empty glass waiting to be filled is to go to New York City.

I have read about it in books. I have seen pictures. I have paused the screen to look at its beautiful skyline in so many movies and every single time, my desire only grows. Every single tale of New York City has been piling up inside my mind ever since I was a little girl. It sets up fireworks inside my heart and rockets in my mind when I think about finally stepping on that plane.

I don’t want to just get it, I want to earn it. I want to be worth it. I want to be the best version of myself when I am standing in the center of Times Square. And I know that when I fulfill this dream, when I satisfy this desire, every single struggle I have and will go through will be worth it.

My desire has spewed hope and purpose, along with ache and longing in me. Because I know it is far, far away. I know how hard it would be for me to earn it, to finally be there. I know how long of a journey it is going to be. I know that moment is far, when I will finally be on the top of the Empire State Building and get a yellow cab in the morning and look over the River Hudson. But when it does happen, I know that I will be the happiest person on Earth.

Of course, I don’t want it to end there. I hope for it to be the beginning of my life, the one where I travel and eat and shop and write.

I hope every day that New York would come true. That my desire wouldn’t be a speck leaving my heart and flying into the sky, never to return.

My desire makes me feel alive. It shouts at me to work harder and I will. My desire makes me a better person and I will fulfill it someday so that I can see it soaring into the sky from the Empire State Building, ready to settle in another heart.

My desire is out of control and I let it be.

New York, I am coming.