#029 Midtown West from Hoboken

(written in June 2011) December 2005. Midtown, the area between 34th and 50th was where I lived and worked. Now I live on the Upper West Side with my fiance and daughter. Many of the things I did then seem so alien to me now. For example, I leave work at 8ish to go home but I am rarely out during an evening. Rarer still, on my own, that happens less than once a month. New York as a single city was so different to live in. There was so much to go out to at 10pm. Now I need the sleep. And even if I didn't, the idea of going to a bar or worse, somewhere with loud music, seems something so unpleasant. From time to time I miss my friends, politics and conversation but the mean streets, wee hours and singles are comfortably in the past. As I think about it, the word loneliness occurs to me. There are things so integral to a person that one doesn't even consider them until they're gone. I'm thinking about things intelligence, health and company. I see the world now in a relationship with Julie and can't therefore cannot no longer fully fathom or feel loneliness. But I had it back then, even though my appetite and need for company was lower than most.