Quite simply, I was in love with New York. I do not mean “love” in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again. I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later – because I did not belong there, did not come from there – but when you are twenty-two or twenty-three, you figure that later you will have a high emotional balance, and be able to pay whatever it costs. I still believed in possibilities then, still had the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.
joan didion via LAvsNYtumblr
did i mention i went to college in new york? it was only one year of my life but it was the most alive i've ever felt. also, the poorest and the most lonely. HOWEVER, i believe that once "new york" seeps into your skin you can never really rid yourself of it. it becomes a part of you that you cherish and relic and even though you have since moved to the west coast you say, "i will be a new yorker one day." then time passes and you...well, you live somewhere with a better climate, nicer people, a slower pace, you make more money, you have a dishwasher (even though you still wash everything by hand) and then new york is just a 'dream' and not a reality because you've grown accustomed to your quality of life and you drive a fancy car to pick up organic, cold-pressed juice that you enjoy by a palm tree somewhere with the sun while it freckles your skin. you never look back. you don't have to because that city... that city is a part of you forever.
the bagels, especially are a part of you forever... in the form of your ass. you definitely can never , ever, ever imagine eating one of those processed frisbees again (even scooped out). new yorkers love their carbs.
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