K. I miss New York. I miss certain intersections at 4AM. I miss the Calvin Klein ads on Broadway. I miss biking down Fort Tilton. I miss BIKING in New York City in general. I miss tacos. I miss Shake Shack. I miss 21st Street. I miss 43rd Street. I miss Sunset Park. I miss Trader Joe's. I miss Roosevelt Island's summer parties. I miss parades. I miss the Frick Museum. I miss the Met. I miss the Met's free outdoor opera screenings in the summer. I even miss going out at Meatpacking. I miss Apothecary. I miss Flushing. I miss the ride from Brooklyn all the way to Flushing. I miss Farmers Markets. I miss Restaurant Week. I miss black people and latinos. I miss walking from the Bronx to Battery Park. I miss that walk with Ari and Chris. I miss Ari. I miss that Hostel. I miss the Italian boys at that hostel. I miss escaping to New York every Spring, Winter break I had. I miss parties at warehouses. I miss Albeena in her craziness. I miss Greta's ghetto house in her ghetto Bedstuy Hood. I miss Red Hook lime tarts. I miss Jia's upper east side apartments. I miss cheap Broadway shows. I miss the New York public library. I miss Bryant Park. I miss the public restroom at Bryant Park. I miss Cafe Grumpy's. I miss flower shops. I miss K-Town. I miss bread. I miss mini-cupcakes. I miss getting kissed by strangers. I miss the romance. I miss weird spaces. I miss really weird kids. I miss weird. I miss weird friends. I miss New York weird. But... I'm glad I'm here for now, if only to accumulate more miss.
The world is too big to only miss everything above. He says, "life is an experiment." I say, "life is a novel." Experiment dictates some right answer. A novel, I say, only means "I'm looking for good stories." That is why I'm here. That is why I do certain things, get involved with certain people, live a certain path.
I, do not seek happiness. Happiness is complacency, and at uglier moments, selfishness. I, seek for meaning, to contribute in some small way to this big world, and hope that in the process, this happiness will inevitably come. I, probably will get lonely at the some point from all this reading, studying, and working, and that is okay, as long as in the end, the novel you've written is one where you've taken leaps and bounds.
That is why I miss you New York, and I'm glad I left you.