Today is the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco from New York City. And while I miss my East Coast friends dearly, the thing I miss the most about living in Manhattan is my stoop. I have three years of memories from that stoop at 262 West 24th Street.
My favorite thing to do was people watch from those four steps in Chelsea. I've had dozens of conversations with friends on that stoop, met some interesting strangers and even a few friends there. I've gotten in fights on those steps, had dinner or desserts there, kissed a few people, even dumped water on a gaggle of loud teenagers who had taken over "my spot." That stoop has seen me madly in love...and also consoled me when my heart was broken. I met my roommate David Studinski there, and waved goodbye to loved ones from the same spot.
From that stoop, I saw the balmy New York summers fade to crimson and orange-tinted falls. I've kicked snow off my boots there, and seen 24th Street explode with the confetti of spring-time blossoms.
New York is a magical city, especially once you've found "your place." A year without it, I've come to realize that stoop was mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment