Hanging with an Ex

I did it.  Maybe I should not have. Perhaps it is a bit disrespectful to my partner of five years.  But in the face  of the pandemic’s never ending slog, my need to rediscover myself, and a desire to feel alive again, I took a risk. I opened a door I slammed shut seven years ago.  Once opened, I walked in.  Cooly, calmly, and with a certain degree of determination.  

I walked down the jet bridge and did not even connect. I went back Non-Stop.  I landed in LGA. I found the MetroCard vending machine, boarded the Q70, transferred to the R train and found myself back in the arms of one of my greatest loves. 

The City of New York. 

NYC in all of its altered Subway routes, rats on the platform, noisy hotel room, never ending siren glory. 

I took in museums. I perused an amazing exhibition at the NY Public Library, and I sat in one of my favorite bars and watched golf, made new friends, and ate about 3/4 of the clam strips and even some of the french fries. Type 2 diabetes be damned. 

I ventured to Bay Ridge and cried a genuine tear about how so much was different about my old neighborhood and none of it for the better. I GOT the words of Iris DeMent’s Our Town, a song I have loved but never felt. By the third closed restaurant, I was right there with her

“And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts…”

But it was certainly was not all that. Or even all bad. New York’s greatest feature is also its worst. The ability to be two opposing things at once. The beauty of the Occulus and the “new” Penn station; the art at the Whitney, the designs at the Cooper Hewitt, and the spirit of some of the folks you meet. 

Thats why its never all bad. That is why I loved it when I lived there. A new experience was always available. You were never stuck to one thing. 

Time has gone on. I am happy where I am. I am content with where I am. I am even happier with who I am now (most of the time anyway). But I am also proud and happy of who I was and the love affair I had with that amazing place. No regrets, but no returns. Maybe a drink once in awhile. Perhaps a wonderful walk down Pigeon crowded streets of shadow, but what was- was. And I am okay with that. 

Isn’t that the best thing we can say about an ex?