Leaving New York

I can think of no worse time to leave New York City than in the fall. After the summer heat has passed and the city cools, New York becomes a much easier place to live. The smells of garbage recede, the tourist thin out, the great, woolly sweaters reappear and wrap themselves around the bustling beauties that sweep through the city canyons.

I spent the past few weeks trying to reconnect with whom I could. Though I’m a humble sort and don’t like to cause too much fuss, I did want to let the people I care about know I’m going to miss them. I also wanted to take care of some things like sorting out rent with an obstinate landlord, and getting a few pictures framed.
Mostly I’ve been walking in Central Park near my house. The park is alive with color, the leaves scattered along the walkways like the discarded strategies of summer. Shortly after the rain, the whole park takes on gloss adding a reflective note to the world which is reflected again in the recently cleaned surface of the Harlem Meer. A simple stroll to the subway becomes a transcendent experience. So much so that a stranger stopped me to say, “Young man, do you see the beauty of nature?” To which I responded “Of course. It’s amazing.” A rare and warm exchange in a city that keeps mostly to itself.

Further, on the weekend I’ve chosen to leave, there is a grand Halloween party at the home of my favorite hosts in the city. A gathering of close friends at a brownstone collectively referred to “La Casa.” Though, I’m a strictly fair weather fan, the Yankees are in the World Series, an occasion for mass celebration. The New York City marathon is running this weekend, which is a spectacle worth seeing, when legions of folks line the 26 mile path to root for friends and strangers.

I’m going to miss this great city that has become my home over the past three years. I’ll miss the tamale vendors, serving warm, mole-stuffed masa out of their great caldrons. I’ll miss the rush of the express train as it blows down the center track. I’ll miss walking down to the bodega for a few beers in the evening. I’ll miss the Bryant Park and lunches with friends, the sprawling libraries, the catty exchanges, the rumble of the Metro North. I’ll miss the feeling that there is no end to the places you can explore, no possible way you could ever get to a point where there is nothing new.

But most of all I’m going to miss my girlfriend, lovely Katherine. I’ve been coping with leaving her by simply pushing it away. Waiting until I have left to entertain that feeling. But as I sit in an O’Hare gate waiting for my flight to Oklahoma City, I can’t avoid the specter of her absence. It is here with me now and growing greater. I will return to New York and its myriad wonders, but I’ll be coming for her.