“My” New York City… I cringe a bit while saying that, but in all honesty, everyones New York City is different even though its all the same. We see what we want, we feel what we desire, so here it goes… This is MY New York City.
A day doesn’t pass by that water droplets don’t drop on my head coming from the A/C’s 1,2,10 floors up and make me question “is it raining?” It just so happens that every time I’m wearing the most uncomfortable shoes I find myself trudging down Madison ave. or some other business oriented avenue that doesn’t have a single place for me to stop and sit. My day isn’t over until I caught a whiff of a deadly smell that indicates a trash truck is near by… or at least thats what I hope it is.
On a rainy day, My city is content. Everyone seems to have an umbrella and appropriate attire…but me of course. I find myself jumping over the pools of water gathered up in the dips of the street and dodging the huge waves caused by taxi drivers driving through the puddles a bit too fast. The tiled sidewalks are dangerously slippery so beware and watch your step, walking in the road is always an option. On a rainy day, my city sings me to sleep. An open window leaves me with serenades of car horns and down pour, making me drift into a deep nap. On a rainy day, My city is my favorite.
On a Sunday, my city is comforting. Wake up late and go to the bakery on the corner for coffee and a bagel, even though its 4 pm. I sit there and write in my journal as the time passes by so quickly, sun slowly setting. My uncomfortably small bed fills me with warmth on a Sunday, hugging me perfectly making it incredibly hard to leave. Its the best day to scroll through Pinterest, my favorite blogs, and read a book, to feel inspired, to lay back, and to clear my head. On a Sunday, my city is my favorite.
On a late night, my city is exciting. “Lets go get breakfast!” at 11 pm. A vintage T-shirt and underwear, playing the same couple of songs that make us excited before we decide to call it quits for the night. Bizarre T.V shows because the remote is no where to be found and watching the same movie on Netflix for the 3rd time this week when all else fails. “So have you ever wondered..” is usually the opening line to our 2 a.m chats, going off into tangents about god knows what. On a late night, my city is my favorite.
On a school day, my city is hectic. Construction workers become alarm clocks and sirens become background music. Right outside my building is a clearing that lets me see the sunrise, looking like a drawing as the round ball of warmth has only broken half was through the sky. The subway is always crowded, maneuvering through kids in their school uniforms and people running to catch the train that I know isn’t coming quite yet. On a school day, Grand Central is like first base. My first stop before I run up the stairs and across the cross walks that tell me not to go yet. My eyes are always heavy on these days due to lack of sleep and my head is always pounding, probably for the same reason. Bianca and I giddily walk past the Yale club and joke about sneaking in as we imagine what might be inside. We continuously point up at the UV lit diagram of a uterus that we can see through the window of a building before we head home. Even on a school day, my city is my favorite.
On any day, my city is my favorite. Even when its hot and the train feels like a sauna, even when its cold and my ears are left red and burning. My city has watched my biggest transition thus far, my city has watched me feel, and not feel. My city has my best friend and my inside jokes, my city has developed my new heart, my new mind. Anywhere else in the world and I couldn’t dance to Welcome to New York the same way I do here, anywhere else in the world and I couldn’t aimlessly wander the same way I do here, anywhere else in the world and I wouldn’t be who I am right now. It’s freeing, exciting, welcoming, loving, growing, teaching, and learning. Its finding the most beautiful things in the most unexpected places. Its my New York City.