my new york city shines at midnight. leaving a bar, or club. warm kisses and hugs exchanged with friends, phone calls tomorrow promised. and there i turn, on a heel, and stride off into the embrace of my singular city.
walking to the subway after an evening out carries a special sort of independant exhiliration. i am alone with my thoughts, my seamless forward movement through a quieted city. there are little embedded twinkles in the dull pavement that sparkle against the grapefruit-colored glow of streetlamps. almost as if the gritty city is winky saucily at my legs.
a friend and i were discussing the thermodynamics of the city – how the more active jumping dashing molecules of humans there are in the city, the more energy it seems to suck from you. but my silent night walks homeward are like the city giving me back a shred of that precious life-energy it so greedily sucks from my hectic daytimes. so when i am alone, my walk changes. i move a little slower, my hips swing more, i am more at ease in my body without having to be aware of friends or destinations or whether my lip gloss looks okay. i prance a little for the insatiable city, flash a little leg, smile at the buildings. thank her for this sparkling pink moment of midnight calm.
and while in these moments i savor my independence, my competence, my daily triumph in this most trying of places … lately on my night walks i have indulged a certain delusion of completeness. because as i enjoy my solitude, there is someone i imagine waiting in our snug wrought iron bed. even under the pretext that his strong arm wouldn’t already be slung over my shoulders, i still pretend that his warm body could be waiting for mine, to sink into that spooned embrace. i do not sleep the same without him. and if i can’t come home to him yet, at least on these quiet walks i can delude myself that i am. coming home. to him.
independence and my affair with this city have their beauty. but our bed is half-empty, and my solitary walks have lost their edge now that i’ve found the perfect walking companion. coming home won’t be the same. until he comes home. to me.