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