I’ll dream of you, all summer long

I’m living in two outfits for the last four days because all my stuff is packed in suitcases. I’m eating all the left overs, the stuff I can’t pack or carry - last of the eggs, last of the Trader Joe’s pasta cooked in Trader Joe’s sauce, and last of the yogurt. Yep, it’s that time of the year again. My entire life is stuffed into three suitcases and a box. Last year, it was just three suitcases. But now I needed “and a box” to fit my new experiences, new friends, new fears, new memories, and lots of new clothes (because I hadn’t packed for the winters last year and boy oh boy have I collected so many layers!)

No, it’s not a “goodbye forever New York” blog. But it definitely is a “I’m going away for four months and I can not imagine how I’ll live in a new city that’s not New York City so please bear with me preparing to have an identity crisis and listen to me being annoying about missing New York City” blog. When am I leaving? Tomorrow. Why am I leaving? Internship. Where am I going? Well that’s for another blog. Am I prepared? Nope. Am I terrified? Yepp. 

When I came New York eight months ago, my only motto was to not visit all the “touristy” places at once so that I feel like I’m here to live and not just visit. I covered them at the speed of one location per week. In fact, I was so slow that I only visited Brooklyn for the first (and only) time, six months after I set foot in the big Apple! I know!!! That’s like being a faux New York enthusiast. (Trust me, I’m not) In doing so, I feel like I never visited each place enough number of times. Like I haven’t been to Central Park enough to not get lost. Or I haven’t “just passed by” Times Square enough number of times because it was on my way to Target. Or I haven’t had enough dollar slices. I haven’t taken all the subway lines. I haven’t visited all the museums. 

And now that I’m about to part ways with the city of my dreams, even if that’s for just four months, when I’m no longer going to be able to randomly start walking and end up at Times Square, or Bryant Park, or the ESB, all I want to do is BE a tourist and visit every place in the two days before I leave, as many times as I can. And so, I did just that. I went and I be-ed a tourist for two days. At least, I tried. But I couldn’t get into the head space of a tourist. I mean, for starters, I never used Google maps. I wasn’t tricked by the Statue of Liberty and the Mikey and friends group at Times Square. I was walking at a New Yorker’s pace and wasn’t blocking the way of others by standing in the middle of the sidewalk. 

What did I do then? Day 01. I started from Penn. Walked all the way to the NYC-Dublin portal, passing by the Empire State (and obviously clicking a picture) and stood there for like 30 minutes just looking at humans being humans. Some sweet some not so appropriate interactions between the two cities later, as I walked away to my next stop, I uttered to myself: “that’s reason number 2675 of why I love love love this city.” Back at Penn for a quick coffee stop and I was suddenly reminded of something Carrie had once said:

For a "big city", New York is actually quite small. You WILL run into people you don't want to run into at the most random (or maybe not so random) places and you WILL pretend you didn't see them and continue walking at your New York speed. 👀

And I smiled for the next four blocks in utter disbelief that it actually happened to me. And that was the moment I truly registered that I actually am not and won’t ever be a tourist here. I picked up my coffee and croissant and sat in Bryant Park by myself, listening to 1989 TV, trying to recall my first ever long walk around the city, when I played 1989 TV, start to end, multiple times, on its release day while strutting around the city’s prominent landmarks. I walked to Times Square and stood on the top of the stairs for 45 minutes, just people watching and overhearing conversations of mostly tourists (it’s graduation season). I tried my best to “take it all in and have a moment” when there was a GIANT hod dog distrcting me. I ate the last of my croissant, faught my urge to have a dollar slice, and walked some more. Two avenues and one wrong turn later, I waited for my ride to arrive. The M4. Took 20 minutes more than what a subway ride would have taken but so, so worth it. It’s always more fun to romanticize life in New York in a bus looking at the views as compared to in a subway trying to avoid certain characters. :)) 

The next day, I did the last two tohristy things. I went to the MET and listened to more Taylor Swift and walked around my favorite rooms in the museum. The American wing, the temple of Dendur. Sat at the same place where almost the entire Hollywood sat just a week ago for the MET gala. Still amazed at the fact that this city, that’s my dream city, has the same effect of so many big peeps. I left just five minutes before closing time. Headed straight to have my last New York cheese slice. Walked around upper west side trying to pretend I was a background actor in SATS or Gossip Girl. And finally, took the long way home through Central Park, for the last time for a while, and took a deep sigh as I untied my dark grey addidas with orange laces for the last time. The phase ends. They’re not coming with me. 

Throughout the two days of me turning to walking as a form of distraction, I would get a random urge to cry. Out of nowhere. I’m one of those people who gets attached to places to avoid getting attached to people. And I make that my entire personality. You will never find me shying away from admitting that I live and breathe New York (at least for the last 8 months) I lived and breathed New York for two years before it was even established that I was going to move here. And now I’m having terrible separation anxiety. 

You see, it feels like I’m James, New York is Betty, and Seattle is Augustine. (Oop, I guess I’m relieved from the pressure of writing another blog revealing where I’m headed to) I’m living in my own little folklore. It’s not that serious but it IS that serious. Ill be in Seattle but will be dreaming of New York all summer long. I’ll be back when August would have slipped away into a moment of time. I’ll be wearing a cardigan and will be leaving JFK, taking the subway, and standing outside 42nd and 8th asking will you have me? Will you want me? Or will you tell me to go f myself? Maybe we’ll pick up where we left off and maybe we’ll have a fresh new start. Who knows. Nobody. But one thing is certain, no one’s ever (and no one will ever) had me like youuuuuuu. It’s true. I swear. (Scouts honor 🫡)

~ vee 🗽