After losing a considerable amount of weight, I loaded up a backpack with the same amount of weight that I lost. Then put this on my back. I walked around for a while and felt the weight that I had lost. I did this to realize how much weight was gone and after removing the backpack, I realized how much lighter I felt. 
Weight has always interested me. I know how much a pound weighs. I know how much ten pounds weigh and twenty and so on. I understand that my concept of weight differs because my strength and depth of feeling is unique to me. I don’t know what ten pounds feels like to anyone else. I only know what this feels like to me.
I know that holding something that is lightweight can eventually become heavy. I also understand the process of accumulation. I know that one thing can become two and two becomes four; therefore, before we know it, we find ourselves carrying way too much. 

I am watching the sunrise from my window (again).
The colors of orange and purple amaze me at times like this. The clouds mix in and take the different colors under its belly. There are leaves on the ground and autumn has taken most of the foliage. But still, the remnants of colored leaves are not all lost. At least, not yet.

There was an early morning gathering at one of the bagel places near my home. I noticed them every Sunday morning and each week, a small group of people chose to meet up at an early hour, just to connect, just to talk, or better yet, maybe they met up to hit the reset button. Come Monday, they were ready to deal with the week and all that comes with it.

I am sitting on an outbound bus with the sun going down. The moon arrived early for its shift today and across the Hudson, which is between me and the City, I can see the spires of tall New York City buildings, pushing their needles into the palms of the sunset.
I am older now but the romance has not left me. Not at all. I still feel the same way and to me, she is just as beautiful—or better yet, she is more beautiful now and beautiful as ever.
My feelings towards her are still as impactful as when I was young and wild. This place has seen me through decades of changes. She is always there for me, regardless of my faults or past misgivings. Besides, she knows my truths, which I suppose was something that used to frighten me.
I have seen her from the Eastside and the Westside and from the Downtown side on cobblestone streets, which still exist. I’ve been with her from the SoHo side, to the Uptown side, from the parks, and to the Avenues with alphabets. She is still very real to me; my City.

There are different phrases for when someone “Goes away,” to dry out or clean up. One phrase that I hear is, “He went to the farm,” which is interesting to me because in my case, I was literally on a farm for 11 months. But I get it. There will always be slang terms. There will always be an attachment to opinions and connections to stigma. I understand that anonymity is not always anonymous and that people talk to keep the rumor factories alive.
To be clear, I was in three different treatment facilities. I was in two of them twice. And I say this without shame. I offer this without regret and openly identify myself as a person who needed help. But this is more about people and our relationships than it is about rehabs and recovery. This is more about the connections we make and the people we meet. This is about what people share with each other when it seems like the entire world is about to fall apart. 
That’s what this is about.

More and more, I think the farther I move away from my former self, the more I realize that I am more than who I ever thought I could be. I am more than my surroundings. My eyes are open now; or better yet, maybe I’m not afraid to see anymore. Maybe I’ve given myself the permission to move on. I have gone beyond the crossroads and come to the understanding that I am more powerful than the influence of my environment. I can change. I can improve. I can say goodbye and walk away. I can learn new things and choose a new life.
The more I grow as a person, the more I realize that this is all within my grasp. I do not have to submit or allow myself to be overrun by circumstances. There is no law that says I have to be defined by my situations. It’s true. In fact, if ever there is a miracle it is the day we realize our own abilities to walk away.

The Old Man used to tell me, “If you sleep with dogs, you’ll wake up with fleas.”
Then he’d point to my friends and point out my condition.
Then he’d say, “You’re gonna have to start scratching soon.”
I suppose he was right.

There are people who look to help and people who look to speak. There are times when silence is best. There are times when all we need is a friend to be there, not necessarily to say anything or least of all, the right thing—but just to be there is perfect enough.