You were never really alone in a place like this. The streets were always overcrowded with passerby’s and even the apartment buildings seemed constantly groaning with the sounds of its occupants. You know how they say the city never sleeps? Yeah, that phrase could never be more true about New York City. There was something truly restless about this place, like an insomniac who never knew when to lay her head down.

I bite back yet another string of curses as someone bumps into me, almost knocking the cup of coffee out my hands. It’s not that I had an issue with people accidentally bumping into me, humans were rather clumsy creatures after all, but what annoyed me the most was that no one ever took the time to apologize or even acknowledge their accident. The people from my hometown, a small little farming town that seemed dead quiet in comparison to this place, were always so polite and friendly. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that here, people didn’t commonly strike up conversation with strangers. They didn’t commonly say sorry to bumping into you or knocking over your coffee either.

When I first agreed to the exchange program, I was raptured by the allure of the big apple. But now, almost two weeks here, I had begun to miss the pockets of silence the farm offered. Not to mention that ever since moving here, my bank account has been desperately trying to hold onto any morsel of change that I can scrounge up from my job at the bookstore across from the school. Living in New York was a lot more expensive than I had initially thought.

I had been lucky enough to earn a scholarship for my final year of high school that allowed me to transfer to Yuval Dance Academy, a prestigious New York academy for the fine arts. Back home in my small town I had attended a regular school and only had time to indulge in dance classes on weekends and after class. Here, at this new place, we danced for almost the entire day with only 5 hours a day dedicated to class time. At first I was thrilled with the prospect of doing what I loved all day, but now it was almost draining to lace up my pointe shoes each day. Even worse, everyone at the academy had that classic New York charm-meaning they were always on the move and quick to critique. I was always a tad shy, but making friends here seemed impossible. Even worse, it seemed as though everyone hated me already and it didn’t take a genuis to take note of the snide remarks whispered about me behind my back.

When I finally reach my destination, after urgently pushing through the surge of morning commuters, I toss my empty coffee cup into the garbage and mentally prepare for the long day ahead of me. Classes would be starting again in a couple of hours and I’d be forced to try extra hard to fit in with my peers and make new friends, a routine that was starting to get quite draining. With a quick sigh and final glance at the bustling streets, I dip down into the subway station, yet another underground world filled with its own set of people and customs entirely. A part of me still held out hope that the city would take kindly to my arrival; I still loved a lot of things about New York like it’s nightlife, it’s towering billboards and it’s amazing coffee shops tucked away in every nook. Maybe some day I’d learn to love it as I loved my own little farm back home, but I guess today just wouldn’t be that day.