I moved to New York. One year ago, today. Liz, Mr. Collins, Margaret, Ben, and I drove up in an SUV and moving van with a lot of stuff. A LOT. I never realize how much I have until I move. And now I am in the process of moving out. (So much to be said on this, and now is not the right time).
After a full day of moving things up three flights of stairs and into a hot sticky apartment, with Thai food from 4 blocks away, Liz and I passed out. Literally. I woke up in my sweaty jeans. The next week was spent cleaning a mess of an apartment - she had to use a screw driver to scrape nastiness off the stove - and wandering. We slowly found our way around the neighborhood and eventually the train lines. This isn’t DC, it’s not the blue line, it’s the C train.
One month passed before we had our new roommates, Boy Cat and Girl Cat. They found roaches…yay. I met Andrew. We searched for jobs. And we searched some more. We handed out resumes. We stole internet. We went to cafes. I walked across the island. I walked blocks and blocks with water and crackers and paper. I got a temp job after one month. Liz got a job at a tea shop. I got a job at a cinema and then the drama department at The New School. Classes started. I knew the moment I sat in my first class that I had made a wrong decision. The program was not for me. I stuck it out. I am now out. Where do I see myself in five years? On some land with horses. We got sick. Really sick. I danced. Liz went to plays. Friends visited. The toilet flooded and could not be used for two days. It took some serious phone calls to get that fixed. I met people from VA, from McLean. Teejay, Rebecca, Rachel, Sadiqeh, Krissy, Gary, Gonzalo, Nayareh, Ayat, Endam, Mommy, Bashir, Nazir, Ethan, Kaytee, Ben, Margarita, Frances…baseball and Vegetarian Palate and Hendog and Chinatown and Union Square and movies and no sleep and movies and movies and sitting and guitar and long walks.
New York, what has it given me? I have been looking back a lot. Reflecting, analyzing. Sometimes I think things over too much, but overall I have come to some important self-realizations, more awareness. To be aware is a path chosen for me in my name, assigned at birth. I am, like all Agahs, meant to be aware. I cannot turn my back on who I am. I will not.
Recently, I said to a friend, that I think New York can further pronounce already existing qualities of our personalities. He mentioned that New York helped him to become more patient. I, and I may have addressed this before, have relocated a part of myself I thought had been let go soon after turning 16 and upon starting in a new place. What I had once dismissed as a sometimes cruel personality, and one I had shed, is who I am.
As a post script to yesterday’s letter, New York, thank you. Thank you for helping me reclaim myself. Thank you for helping me return to a part of myself I thought was not needed, but after years of submission, of slumber more like, it has returned. And more often than not, returned without the intent of hurt or self satisfaction (yes, I made people cry in junior high and high school).
So, here I am, one year later. It has almost taken me an entire year to reach out past myself. I am okay with that. I have recently come into the company of some amazing people. I have found that before quieted voice. It is loud. It is speaking.
I still haven’t cried. I seriously considered watching Edward Scissorhands the other night so that I would cry. I changed my mind.
