Sunday Nights

One of Mike's friends last night asked me "So what happens after New York?" And I said There is no after New York.
journal excerpt, 2006

Every day is an endless roller coaster ride, with very little standing in line and catching my breath. All these ups, but mostly these downs, and I can't seem to keep my hands inside the train car. I walked along the Hudson, the sun glittering so much in the water that I had to keep my eyes practically closed. I remember walking that stretch three years ago and how magical it was. The City that I take for granted, it was such a great mystery then, such a gift, but if I wasn't careful I feared I might just fall right off it.

I want to take you for granted.

The thing is, as much as I didn't want to leave New York last time, when I did, I had somewhere to land. I had a life all staked out for myself, and though I hated it at the time, I returned to it. Out of the ashes of my broken heart, I built such a beautiful life, and I enjoyed the hell out of it for a couple of years.

But if I leave New York now... I have nowhere to go. I have nothing prepared, no given set of rules. I don't even have a savings account. I played everything on this one hand, and I don't know yet what came of it. Perhaps it makes me lost. But just maybe, maybe it makes me free.