Life is rushing by and I need to sit here and document it. Suddenly things are going my way and I’m so light, so grateful. Not much has changed really. Has it? The house has sold. It’s done. The money is in the bank. On one hand I am richer than I’ve ever been. On the other, the sum is only enough to buy a studio apartment and then I’ll be broke again. But I’m excited to buy something affordable. I no longer have to come up with the huge sum every month the house required. I feel free.
All the time I was with D, he bought me presents. Beautiful, unaffordable clothing and shoes. Funny hats, pretty hats. Super-beautiful scarves. My closet is stuffed with these things. I was thinking the other day, that everything is getting worn and becoming more like the clothing I wore before I knew him, found in vintage and consignment shops. As I return to my natural self, I feel gleeful. I love riding the subway and walking everywhere. It never felt right to be driven around in his Porsche, winding left and right, speeding through traffic on the FDR.
Although, I did love D and I loved being with him. I don’t want to deny that to myself or anyone. I loved him maybe more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I would have stayed with him if I could have, would have abandoned myself completely. I’m trying to figure out why that’s what I do. I don’t think he required it. Although, maybe he did.
I’m settled in now. I’m so thankful for every bit of it. I’m thankful for the wonderful interesting people I’m meeting. I feel excited and happy and it has nothing to do with a man, any man. It’s life that I’m in love with. New York and the feeling of possibility.
My life isn’t one of material possessions. I want to be filled up with more important things. Delicious conversation and observation. Books, movies and music. People watching. I’m not judging anyone or telling anyone else what to do, how to live. I’m only thrilling to know what makes me happy. I’m happy to be here. I can’t remember when things last felt so comfortable and right.