Anew

The last minutes of sunlight are breathtaking. A warm peachy fire beams down 26th street as we leave the bar, and I hurry down the avenue to catch a train before it's too late. Cross the Williamsburg Bridge and think this is the last time I'll be going here, but it's too big to imagine. The Chrysler building dances in pink twilight in the distance; there's something about the light and the city hasn't been this beautiful in ages. 

I catch the last fleeting moments of bumbling sunset on the roof of the old pasta factory. J trains rumble across the bridge without interruption. The city sprawls and snuggles infinitely. We manage to laugh but I don't know how: it's all over now. 

As the others gather the last empty beer cans and begin the trek back downstairs, to divvy up leftover flour bags and designer shoes that won't fit in the suitcase, I stay up there for a minute, staring. It occurs to me that nothing has ever made me as happy as being in this city does. That for all my excruciating vagabondery and trembling commitment issues, this place has always, always felt like home. That if you have one truly good thing in your life, you owe it to yourself not to squander it. 

I'm in, I whisper, and for once I believe it. That I will stop pretending I need to be going elsewhere, that this is a temporary bliss I don't really deserve. I will stay here now, I will build a life until it is built within me. 

New York,

Baby, 

I'm in.