In the words of Carrie Bradshaw

Men in their forties are like the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle: tricky, complicated, and you're never really sure you got the right answer. [Carrie]”Sex and the City"

The day came....

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Anais Nin

Brooklyn Bridge & letting go...

For 3 weeks, I experienced intermittent pain, more of a tug on my heart strings, when I looked at the Brooklyn Bridge. Silly, yes. Logical, no. I was instantaneously taken back to a magical moment, merely weeks ago, when I walked the bridge with him. Suddenly, this beautiful structure, no longer represented just that. Working in downtown Manhattan, I couldn't help but see it every day.

Yesterday, a friend  told me just how insane it was of me to think this way. He said, I needed to "replace the memory." So, he dragged me across it. I never envisioned it to be a traumatic experience, with me, breaking down mid walk, kicking my legs and screaming. But, I envisioned it to sting. We laughed and chatted on my second walk across the bridge. We made light of it. We joked. We kidded around about the last time I had experienced the Brooklyn Bridge. It was easier than I anticipated.  I made it out alive, feeling some sort of accomplishment. I could no longer associate the Brooklyn Bridge experience with "him." I could no longer reminisce about the "last time" I walked across the Bridge, as I had replaced the memory with a different one.

At one point, we stopped and looked down at the South St. Seaport, very much like he and I had. I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. I looked down to a place I believed I had "fallen" for this guy, in better times. I paused for a moment and realized that I couldn't be a 'prisoner' to these memories anymore. It made no sense. Yes, he hurt me. But, what sense was it to walk around with a heavy heart, avoiding beautiful structures like the Brooklyn Bridge and South St. Seaport, simply because I associated those places with him? I looked down and swore it was time to let it all go....



Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be. - Anonymous.

Yogurt & Berries, OJ, & Girl Talk...

Today I enjoyed yogurt & berries with OJ, with a friend. It was a beautiful day in city, everyone was out and about. While I was engaged in our conversation, I couldn't help but be distracted by the pedestrian traffic outside the large windows.  I watched couples strolling by, enjoying the weather hand in hand. No, I wasn't overcome with bitterness or envy or even jealousy, when I saw so many lovebirds. But, I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of wonder, perhaps nostgalia, perhaps even a strange longing. 

The wonder was, at the moment I enjoyed yogurt and berries, where was he? Was he enjoying the stellar Sunday that I, and so many New Yorkers were? Was he out and about, enjoying the sun, enjoying the weather, enjoying the typical Sunday brunch? If I knew him at all (which, I'm not sure I even did), he was among many,  engaged in interesting discussion, fully immersed in the moment, looking as beautiful as ever.  

Nostalgia  is defined as  a yearning for the past. The word is a learned formation of a Greek compound, meaning "returning home",  a Homeric word, and ἄλγος (álgos), meaning "pain, ache". That pretty much surmised my sentiments: pain & ache. As I enjoyed brunch, I couldn't help but long for two weeks ago, when we at brunch on a beautiful Sunday, very similar to today. As I ate the yogurt & berries, I contemplated how delicious it was and how he would have loved it. I reflected back to how so much had changed in the past two weeks. It saddened me.

I experienced a sense of Longing . I couldn't help but wonder, momentarily about all of the various things I could have said and done differently. Unrealistically, I longed to go back to that "moment," I somehow concluded I "lost" him. I contemplated what I would have done differently.  I longed to go back to the Saturday we walked across the Brooklyn bridge. I longed to go back to the Mexican restaurant in the West Village. I longed to go back to first laying eyes on him, where I felt butterflies everywhere . I longed to go back to the place where he courted me, where I reminded myself that I would only take this at face value and "wanted nothing serious." My mind was inundated. 

It's strange how the mind works. It's stranger how the mind works when sad. A simple brunch, on a beautiful Sunday, surrounded by a friend, had prompted so many emotions and thoughts.  We may be the city that never sleeps and with that, can also be a mind that never sleeps.

James De La Vega...become your dream

Kahlil Gibran...

Why is it that we are hardest on ourself? 

Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts-by Brandon Flowers

A song that I'm listening to:

Is there anyone out there? 

Somewhere I can belong 

Man the city just ain't so kind tonight 

I need a place to take refuge 

See I been loving you blind 

And I guess that made it hard for me to find 

That we were caught up in the middle of a worn out dream 

I knew we were in trouble but baby I almost screamed 

when I saw you dancing 

On the moon now 

I watched him spin you round and round 

Why did you roll your dice? Show your cards?javascript:void(0); 

Jilted lovers and broken hearts 

You're flying away, while I'm stuck here on the ground 

Is there anyone out there? 

Somewhere I can belong 

Man the city just ain't so kind,tonight 

And if I had my suspicions 

I kept them out of my heart 

Just wished I would of known right from the start 

That you'd be speaking in riddles and you'd never confide 

You know I knew we were in trouble but honey I almost cried 

when I saw you dancing 

On the moon now 

I watched him spin you round and round 

hy did you roll your dice? Show your cards? 

Jilted lovers and broken hearts 

You're out on the wind and I'm still waiting to be found. 

You did a fine job of hiding 

That crooked ace up your sleeve 

You doubled down my direction 

You kiss me on the cheek and leave 

I followed you through the darkness 

I followed you through the cold 

Woman I can tell you one thing 

You're gonna wish you could go back and fold 

Why did you roll your dice? Show your cards? 

Jilted lovers and broken hearts 

You're flying away, while I'm stuck here on the ground 

Why did you roll your dice? Show your cards? 

Jilted lovers and broken hearts 

You're out on the wind and I'm still waiting to be found. 

Yeah! 

Will I ever win? 

Only time will tell 

You got to suffer to remember how well 

that are our ideals never really marched in time 

That's the bottom line 

Jilted lovers and broken hearts

You cannot stop New York City

You cannot stop New York City- a postcard I found:

1 week later. . .

It's been one week since I left Mr. Big's apartment and he called it quits. Sure, everyone loves to remind me of all the fish in the sea, to get back in the  game, and to be thankful "I know now," as opposed to years later. While I appreciate the helpful advice, I'm not at the point where I am even receptive to what their saying. In other words, my heart hurts, my pride is bruised, and my ego is shattered. I'm still trying to make sense of it all. I'm still replaying our entire existence. I'm still contemplating when he decided it wasn't working out. I'm still examining the words that were spoken last week. I'm still analyzing his words and actions. I'm still reflecting back to how beautiful I found him, even when he was kicking me to the curb.

I don't know if it feels it has been a week or a year since he bid me adieu.  But, what I do know is, there was nothing I could do about it. And, one week later, it still hurts.

Cotton candy in lieu of mints?

During lunch today, I was surprised as to what was handed to our table after we paid the bill. No, not mints. No, not chocolate. Yes, you guessed it...a bowl of pink cotton candy. I couldn't help but sample a piece. It instantly placed me into childhood 20 years ago. Sweet, pure sugar that dissolved instantaneously in my mouth. Despite the overpowering sweetness, there was something comforting in it.

 Only in NY, kids.

Appreciating beauty. . .

I snapped this on my way to the gym. I had to stop for a moment and admire the beauty of the way the sun hit the buildings. As the picture shows, where I stood was shadow ridden. But, all I had to do was look up. Maybe, a perfect metaphor for a moment, a day, a week, a month, a year, a life.

From Khalil Gibran :

I saw this powerful quotation by Khalil Gibran today.  How true. 

Change the way you look at things

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.
Wayne Dyer

When you're in it, sometimes you neglect to look "up," failing to see the magnificence of the city. Like life, I suppose you sometimes have to step back in order to get a different perspective. The city, like life, looks so different from a distance. 

Balloons. . .

Walking on the Upper West Side today, I couldn't help but notice the shiny, colorful, and very much inflated balloons ahead of me.  The woman in font of me struggled to hold the handful of balloons as the brisk breeze picked up.  It made me think about Carrie Bradshaw of Sex And The City & an image of  her carrying red balloons near the Brooklyn Bridge. I recalled the image before googling it, with her hair blowing in the breeze, smile on her face, and her care-free demeanor. I thought about how I couldn't have felt more different than the Carrie Bradshaw image I visualized. In this moment, I felt defeated, sad, broken, and reminiscent of my life, even one week ago. It wasn't a surprise. I knew my sadness originated over the loss of a man in my life, that some colleagues appropriately named, "Mr. Big." He was my Mr. Big, --that smoldering, unattainable, charismatic, and beautiful man, who called whatever it was that we even had (if anything), quits a few days ago.  Suffice it to say, I didn't share the celebratory sentiments that the woman holding the balloons felt.

In the Carrie Bradshaw world above, maybe Mr. Big was right in front of her (not in this picture), along the pier, prompting her smile as she neared him. In my world today, in the brisk 40 degree, March breeze, I could only wonder when the smile which graced Carrie's face, would grace mine again. Instead, I felt the cold breeze on my cheeks and the bright sun in my overly sensitive eyes, likely from crying.  

When it comes to life and love, why do we believe our worst reviews?-Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & The City