Post-Modern Drunk: With no direction home
I'm leaving you, Manhattan.

This just isn't working anymore. I hope we can still stay friends. I promise, I'll come and visit you occasionally. Sure, I know you never leave home for me. You're fickle that way, and you have plenty of other suitors at your door all the time. You may even love a couple of them more than me. I know we weren't together for very long, compared to some of your other relationships, but it was magical for me while it happened. I learned so much from you, about who I am as a person and who I can be. Maybe you've learned a little as well--you are a very stubborn island, though, and you're used to people changing their lives for you, pining after you from around the world. You are used to being loved--you are loveable, after all--and maybe you're not entirely used to loving in return. You have seemed harsh and removed at times, at least to me. I know that you've had problems in the past with others, even if I never spoke to them about it directly.

But I'm leaving you. I'm moving in with Greenpoint. You may think that's a stupid decision, leaving you for her, but I assure you, it'll be good for me in the long run, maybe for all of us. It was never meant to be with us, an impossible illogical connection. Greenpoint and I, well, it may be a rebound relationship, something to tide me over until Williamsburg or Park Slope start returning my calls, but I need some time to collect myself. Something to get you off my mind. I'm not sure I'm in any shape yet to go through a relationship with Williamsburg, after all. I want to get myself together, improve myself, so that I may one day be worthy of someone like Williamsburg. We were good together, Manhattan and I, but still, you have no idea how hard you were on me. You made it so hard for me to see my friends; you put up obstacles and complications, changing with the winds. I think it'll be better for us, this way.

I still love you, of course. I don't think that will ever change, Manhattan. You were just taking too much out of me, asking too much. We'll get together from time to time. I promise. See a movie, maybe have dinner with some friends. We'll give it a try, at least (unless Greenpoint or, *fingers crossed* Williamsburg says otherwise). But right now, this is something I just have to do.

I'll have my stuff out of your place by the end of the month.

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one ordinary night, with cigarettes				road trip random ten (10/14/05)

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