I love how people share intimate dinners in small spaces, glistened by the glare of siren lights that don’t necessarily linger in the conscience of their conversation.
I love how there’s so much going on, an assault of people, phone calls, honking horns and colorful coats.
Yet New Yorkers have this sense of stability where they simply live their lives, without lingering on everything, yet knowing that everything remains available when they choose to engage with the miracles: a long running game of Jenga, a cafe lit by a million stranded lights, a bar coated with the warmth of unfamiliar faces and familiar gestures of joy.
I love dancing street tango whenever I walk from one place to another – swerving left and right and in and out, choreographing between people, based on this small code of recognized body language indicating which direction a person is going, sometimes, hopefully, laughing when your movements match exactly with the person you are trying to maneuver around. You smile, literally do a dance with them, and continue on.
I love how emotions seemingly bounce from one person to another, as if the man smiling across the street was the missing number to the equation that makes the ends of your lips purse up, releasing a small chuckle. There are so many small chuckles here.
I love how people are so different, but the same. How the frazzled lady barely holding onto her purse walks the same pace as the suited man closing an apparently astounding deal on his bluetooth headset.
I love seeing two friends fall into each other’s words -relaxed, okay, safe- regardless of how crazy the world can be, because they’re with each other, they hear each other, so they can say everything they’re feeling and celebrate the fact that the other person feels the same. I love that they forget other people can still hear them, though they do make a compelling case, Nancy does sound like a b*tch.
I love simply being in such a big place! Sometimes I hate it, but it kind of makes me love it more. I love seeing airplanes scrape the milky sky, so small in comparison to the force of human nature that New York is.
I love seeing the last rays of sunlight seep through the visible sky. I love seeing people come in waves at 4PM, 5PM, 6PM, 8PM, continuing to travel through the concrete rivers of the city late at night. The lady grabbing her after-work snacks from one of the many grocery stores settled on the sides of the streets.
I love that it feels as though New York made space for me – knowing that it was probably me that made New York make space for me, it doesn’t really matter. Every time I walk onto the busy sidewalks from the open streets, when oncoming crowds of pedestrians shift a little bit to the right, allowing me to walk without collision, I feel taken care of.
I feel New York.
I love New York.