A Day In The Life: 2/9/12
That’s my bench. My bench, in my park. There’s no sign to indicate that these things belong to me, and I suppose technically they don’t. That can’t be helped. What matters is the fact that everything changed 5 months and a week ago on this very bench in this very park. On September 2nd, here in this very spot, everything fell into place. This is where my boyfriend became my boyfriend, and where I realized that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
It was a beautiful night. Just in front of the Washington Square arch, the piano man was playing some of the classics, and people walking by were compelled to stop and sing along. It was such an amazing thing to experience: the two of us, newly united, watching people sing along to songs from their childhood. There weren’t many kids our age around because of that Monster Ball happening at the same time, but because we skipped it, Kyle and I got something much better. We got each other, and a rare look at people letting their guard down just long enough to join in on a rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing.” Strangers coming together, not knowing anyone or anything except for the music that brought them all to the same place. It was beautiful and spontaneous, and a night I’ll never forget.
Five months later, I’m sitting in Washington Square Park once again. Except this time I’m not sitting on that bench, my bench. Instead, a homeless man has taken my seat. It’s quite cold so I understand why he chose the last bench of the row to curl up on. I feel bad that this is all he has, I wish that I could help somehow. And yet I can’t help but picture that beautiful night I once experienced on that very bench. It’s such a sharp contrast in my mind. Where warm hearts once sang together in warm weather now stands nothing. The piano is gone, and so is the crowd. There is nobody standing by the arch other than the banjo player and his three listeners. I don’t mind listening to this man play the banjo, but it was nothing like that sing along months ago. People will stop to listen for a few seconds, nod their heads or say something to their companion, and then they will just walk away to continue their daily lives. There isn’t the same kind of draw here, or the same atmosphere even though it is the same park.
I’ve been sitting across from the homeless man in my bench. He seems to be trying to get some sleep even though it’s 2:30 in the afternoon. I wonder what his story is, what brought him to be homeless. Does he have a family? Did he ever have one? Is there anyone out there worrying about him at all? I don’t know anything about him except that he’s sitting on my bench. It’s amazing to see how things change over time. In this city, my beautiful city, things change at a much faster rate. For all I know, another homeless man could have taken up my bench at the park after Kyle & I got up to leave that night 5 months ago. All sorts of people must have sat there at some point. Students reading books, businessmen taking a second to relax and play with their phones, tourists consulting their maps; In this city, nothing stays still for long.
This is all so common to me now. This is where I live, this is my hometown, this is my backyard. I live here now, in my city. I wouldn’t give that up for anything. But just a few years ago, I had only been to the city a few times. My dad never liked coming here. He gets paranoid, and from working in law enforcement, he knows everything that can go wrong in this place. Even though he would primarily say negative things about it, I only experienced it through my mom. She had worked here before they got married. She had stories of getting lost with friends, going to Times Square, and all that. I fell in love with my city at a very young age. It wasn’t just another town on Long Island – it was The City, the place that all of us wanted to visit. I became so jealous any time I heard my friends had gone into The City for the day. When I finally had my turn to see what everyone was talking about, everything changed.
“I want the bright lights and the big city That’s the life for me.” I heard this line in a song from the movie James and The Giant Peach, and that being one of my favorite movies, only added to my desire to explore this big, marvelous place. I was in awe of it. I finally got to see what all the buzz was about. My parents gave me speeches, preparing me for a week before our visit. There would be homeless people on the streets, and people trying to distract me so that they could steal my purse. People never stopped walking so I would have to keep up. There was dirt and grime on everything, so I shouldn’t touch anything unless I really had to. None of this mattered to me once I was there, in The City of all cities. Nothing could possibly be as grand as this place. It was magical. How could they get buildings that tall? How does everyone know where they’re going? The City and all its wonders stole my heart very early on, and that’s when I knew I wanted to live here someday. I had experienced the hustle and bustle of New York City, and from then on, The City became my favorite place in the world.
Since then, I’ve been to Italy, Aruba, Turks and Caicos, Hawaii, and states up and down the East Coast. I loved each and every destination, and I still do, but there’s just something special about the city – my city. This was the place that stole my heart as a child, and it was here that Kyle stole my heart as a young adult. This city has always had such a big place in my life. Sure, there are shady characters everywhere. The prices are much higher than they are back on the island, and it’s true – people never stop walking. Even with all of these downsides, I have found a true home in New York City.
The park, while I often refer to it as my park, isn’t my home here. It is no doubt one of my favorite places in the city. This one bench hosted a moment that changed my life forever, but this city as a whole has drawn me in from the beginning. It’s beautiful and dangerous and mysterious and ever-changing, and those are the very reasons why I love it so much.
I should probably get up before this homeless man notices that I’ve been watching him sleep in my bench. Maybe I’ll go explore the rest of my city today. There are no boundaries here, just a never ending row of buildings. That’s the beauty of New York, it has something for everyone. It’s about time I take a look at all that I’ve been missing, and all I’ve wanted to see for as long as I can remember.
3 months ago · 3 notes
