|Blogs > LilBlondeNZ > I Hope They Serve Wine In Hell|
New York, I'm Sorry...
New York, I'm Sorry...
We've been together for a long time. Everytime I left, I always ended up coming back to you. I guess I always craved the safety of the familiarity you provided. You gave me an identity; I knew where all the roads led.
But you and I both know...
Our house isn't a home.
I remember growing up in Northport, looking around with so much hope. I wanted to live in my parents' house forever. I wanted to buy it and paint it a different color (blue) because I thought that beige was boring. I remember which stair creaked and which closet door was tough to close. The dark space underneath the deck was scary and I think there are still probably 17 balls under there that I was too chicken to fetch. I remember the lawn my father mowed and the old tire swing. When the rope broke my mom didnt fix it and I was always sad about that.
How many swings did I miss out on?
There was a lilac bush in the corner of the yard and it was my favorite part of May when it finally bloomed. I would take a knife and cut through the tough branch, bring it in and put it in a drinking glass on the dining room table. I was always mad that the bees liked the lilacs as much as I did. Big fat bumble bees that looked a lot more scary when I was five.
They aren't so scary anymore.
But things changed and we moved. I never had a home again. In Glen Cove, we moved from apartment to house to apartment, and I escaped out to my dorm in New Jersey. But out on my own, I returned to New York. Old Country Road was neither old nor in the country, and Rte. 107 was always backed up at the intersection Northern Boulevard. Out on my own and married, yet I still didn't have a home. Levittown and Bethpage were crowded and commerical but I couldn't buy what I really wanted.
You never provided the kind of suburban bliss you advertised.
I was never a part of what I saw in the movies.
Home is a concept I got used to doing without, and I grew to be a cynical resident. I made the turkey and put the star on the tree. I put the cover on the pool and lit the citronella candles. I went through the motions.
But it never materialized.
I did my part.
I really tried.
But you didn't come through like you promised.
So, New York, I'm leaving you. I didn't want it to be this way, but we're just not good for each other. Our life is empty and the memories aren't good enough to keep me here. I can't hang onto the hope like I have been doing all these years.
I'm not in love with you anymore.
The dreams I had for us when I was young never came true, so it's up to me to go find another way.
New York, I'm sorry.
5/27/2006 12:43 pm
Just think of it as one of those relatives you'll go visit once in a while but you don't really want to stay too long because their house smells funny.|
You already have your new home picked out, nothing to be sorry about when you leave NY.
Have tongue, will use it. Repeatedly.
5/27/2006 1:01 pm
It's bitter sweet to leave home knowing it's for good isn't it? Sorry you're leaving but think of it as the end of a cycle and the beginning of a wonderful new one. Now girl, don't know what you have planned but Connecticut would LOVE to have you |
5/27/2006 1:31 pm
I'm sorry too babe|
but way less than I'm ecstatic.
5/27/2006 1:52 pm
Well things are spinning 'round me|
And all my thoughts were cloudy
And I had begun to doubt all the things that were me.
Been in so many places
You know I've run so many races
And looked into the empty faces of the people of the night
And something is just not right
'Cause you know that I got to get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I got to get out of here
'Cause New York's not my home.
5/27/2006 7:07 pm
Leaving one city to go to another that holds so much love and promise. A new beginning. |
5/28/2006 12:07 am
Start spreading the news|
I'm leaving today
I want to be a part of it, New Z, New Z
These vagabond shoes
Are longing to stray
And make a brand new start of it
New Z, New Z
I want to wake up in the city of many sheeps
To find I'm queen of the Bulge, top of the heap
These big city blues
Are melting away
I'll make a brand new start of it
In old New Z
If I can make it there
I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you, New Z, New Z.
It's all a matter of perspective. And a few switched letters
Yeah, I'm still [blog 1hotwahine]
5/28/2006 6:06 am
I may be one of the only regulars to your blog who knows, and has been to the places you described. Hempstead Tnpk, the Hooters over there was a favorite of mine. And I basically LIVED in Roosevelt Field. Houston's is still a prime date spot for me. Even though I'm a South Shore Bay Rat.... |