Last night, she said

My last night in New York City didn't go quite as I expected.

A great love affair deserves a fond fairwell, and I spent Sunday night, August 17th, locked in an apartment, packing boxes with an ineptitude that is only surpassed by my husband's. If you stopped me on the street for an interview and asked me, "If you knew you were leaving the greatest city in the world tomorrow, what would you do tonight?" there are a number of things I might have said--a fancy dinner at a nice restaurant, or at least one that holds a lot of memories, maybe a cab ride up Madison Avenue, maybe even one of those incredibly touristy double decker buses--just something so I can breathe it all in and store it with me for the next two or three years.

Nope. The only time I spent outside on August 17th was to walk a friend partially home, and then I walked back by myself, anxious because I didn't lock the apartment doors, anxious because I left my cell phone behind, anxious because my friend was walking back alone, anxious because if my husband got home before me, he would have no way to get in the building, anxious because a woman had jumped out at me asking for money in front of Duane Reade and I wasn't particularly happy at a repeat performance. And then I passed Pomander Walk and found myself so incredibly sad that my last moments of my beloved city in my beloved nighttime were riddled with the emotions associated with the worst part of New York. And I felt I had failed at enjoying everything that I had ever planned to about New York. No, I don't really beat myself up about the fact that I've never been to the Empire State Building. But that I've never been to the Museum of Television and Radio, or been on a Circle Line Tour, or yes, just strolled through Pomander Walk to see what's behind those damn gates I faced every day for a year, well that kills me.

I don't know if it's really true that if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere, but if it's true, then I feel pretty set for life. I loved high school in New York. I loved college in New York. I loved my first apartment in New York, my first job, and my friends. New York represents my happiest memories and achievements, and simultaneous allows me to ignore one of my biggest shortcomings (because who the hell drives in New York City?) What more can you ask for?