I wish I would have written something before I left New York; all my happy, emotional, good thoughts about my visit there have been coated with a layer of Miami now. My sisters took me to a cocktail party last night for the opening of their friend's newest real estate office and a guy with botox gave me his card. Ew!
I had such a great time in Manhattan (and its environs, don't worry Schnookums & Petr!). Seeing everyone again, being there, Black Party. Nothing felt weird about being back. Before I left London I was a little scared I might get back to New York and feel like 'Oh my god, why'd I ever leave?!', but that didn't happen. In the same breath, though, I didn't feel like I'd never be back, either -- it's not like when I left SF and I was just done with it. Just a nice, content feeling; I didn't feel homeless, I didn't feel invisible.
The saddest point I had was last Monday morning. The day before I had champagne brunch with a few friends, followed by champagne social at my old apartment, closed with a champagne evening with Darrin. Monday morning I became very keenly aware of all the lives & friendships I've actively disjointed myself from and it felt really lonely. But as I went on with my day and the familiarity of New York came over me that feeling subsided and I was OK.
After we took off from LaGuardia I could see Manhattan off the right side of the plane (there is absolutely nothing like the Manhattan skyline) and I honestly thought I really truly love that little island. Now I am down South on this plastic island for a few days, then back to my new home on a new island this Saturday; and I am good with that. But I'll be back again soon.
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