I went for a run today along the Hudson down Washington Heights. Started where the Cloisters lets out onto the West Side Highway and ran down towards the GWB. At 181st there’s a path than turns down towards the water and lets you run through the park along the riverbank. I made it to 165th and came right back around. Look what I found under the GWB:
It’s fittingly called the Little Red Lighthouse. Apparently an old tribe placed a red pole in the Hudson riverbank to signal to passing ships that the waters were about to shift. Later two lamps were attached to the pole, and eventually the red lighthouse was installed. It doesn’t operate anymore but I hear they open it for tours and stuff. I love that it’s here, uptown where I am. :)
The sun started to set on my way back home, pale orange and violet clouds. It was a good run except for the part where Mariah Carey’s “Sweet Fantasy” started blasting through my shuffle. OK I kept running along to it tho. Sometimes a song like that just gives you a little boost — might not be one of those tunes you proudly own but damn if it don’t love hearing it now and then. It’s one of those songs that comes on when you’re sitting on the A train heading downtown on your way to meet up with friends or your boyfriend, and you know they’re gonna be annoyed with you cuz you’ll be 20min late again since your ass changed shirts 6 times, but you look cute now and this damn song just came on in your headphones and you’re smiling cuz you know it’s probably gonna be a fun night. Wow, run-on sentance, hi. But you know what I mean.
I went to Target tonight and got a George Foreman grill. Nick and I threw my old one out in a feng shui attack when we were repainting the kitchen last year. Grilled chicken is about to enter my life in a real way. I’ve been gathering all kinds of intel from folks who know and apparently it’s just a necessity if you want to fit into size 30waist pants again.
UPDATE: when I run, everything feels starts to clear up in my head. I start adopting a different spin on my situation and then I think how I’m seeing it is totally not the way I should be seeing it. And then night comes, and I’m in bed like I am right now… and I only know how lonelysad I feel.
A hotel guest asked me this morning for the best route to run, I directed him to stroll West Houston all the way to the river and follow the runner’s path down to Battery Park. I recommend this all the time to runners. Except today, after I pointed him in the right direction, I spent all day wishing I was doing it too. So after work, I went to the gym, changed into my workout gear, clipped on my ipod shuffle, slid a Metrocard and $10 into my shoe, and took off. I ran for 2hrs, down the West Side runner’s path from Pier 40 @ West Houston to Pier A @ Battery Park. I didn’t plan to cover so much ground or be out that much… I just didn’t want to stop b/c that would mean I’d have to eventually go home. I’m doing this weird thing now where I just avoid coming home to this big empty tomb of an apartment (just me and chihuahua now) but I don’t wander the city anymore; in truth I have almost gotten sick of aimlessly wandering. I want to make a plan and follow the plan. And if I don’t have a plan… well, I guess I’ll run. I can’t believe I was out so long today, it felt amazing and isolating. Kinda sad and good. I did a LOT of thinking, but not spiraling like I normally do. I think I get why runner’s run, for that zone you get into where thoughts aren’t good or bad, it’s almost just easy processing. Not that I did much running, hell it was a lot of jogging and brisk walking — hello, it’s only my 3rd day of running, and only my first day outside… but it felt good. I’d like to do it more. I also came across a million little parks, outdoor cafes, public lawns, and sitting areas along the river — the kind of places I want to take Nick to. I thought that a lot today, “Oh I’ve gotta show this to Nick!” Then I’d just run harder. I miss him so bad it drives me running.
It’s Sunday but it’s my Friday, the start of my weekend. My first one w/o Nick here. I probably won’t see him for any of it and it just feels wrong and it scares me. All I want to do is blurt out all the right things and heal what’s hurting, but it’s like, I don’t have the right. Whoever said if you love someone you let them go was a fucking dick.
This isn’t me all of the time, even most of the time. Trust: there’s a lot of fighting back tears on the subway rides home and I have actually even picked out a little secret sofa in the empty lounge @ work, where nobody comes or sees me if I need to “step away”. Words cannot describe what it’s like seeing something lovely unravel. As hard as all of this is for me, it’s gotta be even worse for Nick. He didn’t come here to get his own apartment and work and live alone in New York, he came here tobe with me so for him this transition must be so many levels of scary and lonely and “Oh my God, what am I doing?” This is hard. It’s hard for us both and it aches and it’s sad.
I’m trying. And I am happy to be here at 30, despite the dark clouds overhead. It was supposed to rain all day on my birthday, but it didn’t once. It was a gorgeous green day and a warm evening. Nick actually took me to dinner last night @ Candela Candela, where we had amazing Ropa Vieja and coconut mojitos. The host brought me a small chocolate molten cake with ice cream and they all sang me Happy Birthday (”Happy Birthday dear…. uh? HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”), I couldn’t stop smiling even when I blew out the candle. Having not seen Nick in over a week since before he even moved out, it was awkward and strange but felt good and comforting to be with him; it was all I truly wanted to do. Nick and I walked up 2nd ave and he kissed me happy birthday on the corner of St. Mark’s Place. He came home with me and I got to wake up with him on my birthday (my wish came true). Spent the morning in bed and we went downtown together, he headed off to work and I took myself to brunch @ Norma’s. My phone service was not working there, which is probably good b/c it forced me to just sit with my thoughts and enjoy the time (and my amazing breakfast). I so did. Walked outside later and through the Park, listened to all the birthday vmails ppl had left me, wishing me a beautiful 30th. I headed home, regrouped, and made my way back downtown for a 3hr spa day @ Devachan! Then the gym — yes, it was important to me that I make the gym a part of my 30th bday today, as getting fit is something I want to keep focused on. After a 25min run and quick rinse — which felt wobbly and tiring -- I met Karen @ Garage for dinner. We had asian spring rolls and I had steak frites and a mojito martini; it was fabulous, just what I wanted. We checked out Little Branch (so cute how it’s hidden away) and didn’t stay long but I def wanna go back and have one of those butter rum cocktails.
Karen gave me 2 books, they’re both about Seahorses. One is full of facts and images and info about their species in general, how they’re used for Chinese medicine, how the male pregnancy works, all this random shit -- I love it! The other is a glittery kids book about a little happy seahorse who got swept away from his friends and cozy life by a big wave that carried him over to a new reef he didn’t know. He was scared and lonely but made new friends and had new experiences that opened his mind a bit, and when a new wave came along he swam into it and it took him back home. Overidentify, much? Yup. I absolutely love this present.
I have so much in my heart and my head at this moment and I’m not sure how much of it I want to share on here. I think the time for spilling every little thing I feel out into the webiverse has come and gone, not something I feel the need to do anymore. I think I just need to try to (forgive the metaphor) ride this wave and see where it takes me… shit maybe it’ll be someplace better. Oh, you know something I love about Seahorses? They have built-in suits of armor in their little bodies. Seriously, not scales like other fish — it’s like plating under their skin. They’re tough little creatures and I’m drawing some inspiration from them these days.
Nick moved out today. It’s not over, but we have things to figure out. I crashed on a friend’s sofa last night and stayed away from the apartment all day today, doing anything I could think of to stay busy and not burst into hysterics. None of it worked too well. I’m scared now.
No words can describe what this day was like for either of us.
So I had a dream last night that I was at this wedding. The room wasn’t really a church, more like a an empty, dimly lit space that had been filled with folding chairs and cheap decorations on the walls — there were neon lights up by the makeshift altar. The room was full of people, we were all waiting, and there were also blowup dolls dressed like the bride & groom standing up at the front and it was obviously a joke but just a bad one. They were filled with helium so they’d sort of float upright down the aisle and I remember thinking how tacky they were, so I ran over and pulled them off to the side. When I was up there I looked around and noticed the bride at the back of the room and I knew her! It was Sarah Smith, who I’d grown up with as kid and by the age of 6 or 7 was my first childhood girlfriend/heartbreak; she and I recently reconnected on Facebook so altho I hadn’t seen her in years I recognized her. I also noticed her dad was standing in the back with her and her mom, Patty, was sitting up front crying… and my parents were on the other side, sitting up at the front too. And I thought it was weird I was standing up at the altar where the groom would be — and suddenly it hit me that this was MY wedding to Sarah Smith. I began to panic and a million thoughts started spinning in my head: Why am I here today getting married to a woman? What’s the matter with her, why would she marry a gay guy? Is this a business arrangement? Neither of us needs the papers. I’m so confused… In my head Nick and I had broken up but I was hoping we’d reconcile, so I was freaking out about that too. I can’t get married to a woman, Nick and I will never get back together now! I’ll never get past this, if I get married then I’ll have to get divorced and she’ll empty out my pockets out of spite, and I’ll always be a man divorced from a woman! This isn’t what I want! OH MY GOD, WHAT AM I DOING HERE?! Sarah and her dad started gathering themselves to walk down the aisle and I ran over to my parents. I was like, “Guys I can’t marry Sarah, I’m gay.” My parent just sat there like brain dead people and were like, “Yeah, we know. None of us can understand what you are doing.” My dad was wearing tinted glasses like Wilford Brimley and my mom had on this weird church lady hat that she would never wear in real life. But they just looked SOMBER, like they’d resigned to being dead inside, and it was freaking me out. Words can’t describe the thunder and banging around going on in my stomach, I wanted to sneak away but I felt like I just couldn’t leave the room.
Then I woke up. My boyfriend was asleep next to me, so I hugged him really close and held his junk just to reassure myself that all was right in my world. It’s always those scary-normal dreams so strikingly REAL (where nobody has 2 heads or can fly or anything) that freak me out the most.
