Aug 9
New York: Reverie and What-Not
Day three in New York isn’t entirely conducive to compelling writing. It just isn’t. Kim is off to visit some friends in Brooklyn. My assistant, Katherine, and I go to the top of the Empire State Building, eighty-six floors. The view is gorgeous, but I have a head full of reverie. This isn’t new to me, I often feel lonely around people. I get lonely and contemplative. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. So, I’m there at the top of the Empire State Building thinking about being lonely, thinking about why I am the way I am.
There’s this woman back home, and I’ll be honest, I’m totally mad for her. It took me far too long to tell her so, and I wonder where we’ll go next. I’m looking down at the city, thinking about seeing her again, thinking about being closer to her. Given the last three years, given what happened in those three years with my last relationship (it went quite wrong), it’s difficult to want someone so badly and admit it. It’s also a little difficult to wrap my mind around the idea that she could feel the same way about me.
I start singing an Elliott Smith song, silently to myself. Part of it goes, the part I’m thinking about, “you’re still here, but just check to make sure. all you aspired to do was endure. you can’t ask for more, ask for for more, knowing you’ll never get that which ask for…” It’s a line that I don’t want to be true for myself, but sometimes it fits too well.
- Looking down, thinking things…
I’m mostly really nervous about the next evening, about seeing Ira Glass and Anaheed, his spectacular wife. I haven’t seen them in almost a year, I’m worried we’ll go to dinner and they’ll suddenly realize that I’m not at all interesting. I worry that I’ll suddenly forget how to carry on any manner of conversation. I’m neurotic. it’s, unfortunately, my way.
Aside from the reverie, we have a nice lunch in Bryant Park with some friends from This American Life. I wonder if they notice I’m a little out of it.
That evening, Katherine and I walk down Times Square. The lights are bright and pretty, the opposite of how I feel inside. I wonder if I’ll be able to fall asleep, or if I’ll sleep and have bad dreams.
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Here is hoping you slept well.
With dreams of lights and love.
One of the most compelling posts of yours that I’ve read so far.
I had an interesting phase in my journaling where I carried a notebook with me and stopped to note only what I was perceiving throughout my day – inside and out. Nothing much happened, but it remains one of the most interesting sections to reread somehow.
Because it’s so personal, I feel inclined to go into my normal friendship role and ask questions about the person you left at home, and the relationship that went awry, to get a picture of how they are relating for you and see if there’s some perspective I can offer. But since I’m a total stranger, I suppose I won’t.
Anyway, I’ll just say that I’m enjoying your writing very much, and I hope your new york trip continues to be relatively smooth.
“I’m worried we’ll go to dinner and they’ll suddenly realize that I’m not at all interesting.”
I don’t think you have to worry about that. You overcome more than 99% of the world everyday. That is interesting.
I just found you blog and I’m looking forward to reading.