Classic NYC Story

i love you because i don’t have enough energy for apathy.
i love you because i’m a little bit drunk and you laugh so pretty . . .

New Yorkers are like that. We are not intrinsically cheery people. We are all angry, and jaded, and suspicious. Even when we are smiling, we’re secretly waiting for something to go wrong. We revel in our schadenfreude, even when we are the butt of our own jokes. We delight even in our own misfortune, and do not tolerate kindly the fortune of others, unless it’s twisted or short lived. Nobody wants to be around two people who are in love. I would be more popular if I were defiantly trash-talking an ex lover while proclaiming that I didn’t need anybody. Two people in love will quickly be directed to “get a room!”

It was some months later that he insisted to me (as he continues to insist) that I saved his life. I contend that I am too much of a crazy myself to have saved anybody’s life, but the sentiment is sweet.

And furthermore, whether the place was hopeless or not, we certainly found love:

She told me about how she would leave home for several days on end when she was a teenager and spend nights in Central Park. I told her that I grew up in Laurelton, Queens and went to school on the Upper East Side.

And then I realized that I’m a New York City princess.

This is just about the time of year when I start washing my hair of the residue of the previous twelve months. About this time, I usually find myself cutting loose all of the ugly strings I wrapped around myself all year…

My site having been down for the past few days (technical difficulties) has actually provided me with the perfect excuse to not write about all the crazy changes I’ve been going through. Changes. Yeah, I used the exact correct word. Everything has changed, and of course, not quite according to plan.

I only need you
like I need sunlight,
which I’m sure I could live without…

This New-York-on-an-early-autumn-night scene could have been painted by an artist with a curious imagination, and here I am surrounded by it, living it, breathing it.

…Your face flickers
before my increasingly blurry vision.
I want you…

We sat together in the dark bar with our hands in each other’s hands. His face was aglow with appreciation as he watched the band and sang along with blues covers even I didn’t know the words to. His tie (he had dressed up for me) was undone and draped around his neck. Dear God, the boy was beautiful.