The Big Move

In three weeks, I will be moving in with my fella. Anyone who knows me knows this is a big fucking deal. Ella has never lived with a fella and really loves her time alone. But, the stars seem to be aligned (plus, paying two rents is pretty stupid at this point) so I am taking the co-habitation plunge. I’ve been spending a lot of time cleaning up my place and packing my things, which is filling me with tons of emotion. After all, this is MY place, MY first place, the place where I set up shop as a full-fledged adult 5 years ago. And now, this particular chapter is coming to a close.

I decided to move out of my parents’ house in 2002 after my ex from college and I decided to end our relationship. He had done a pretty good job of stomping on my ambitions (he’s from an affluent family and found my desire to make money disgusting…I found his lack of ambition to be a complete turn-off) and within a month of our breakup I decided it was time to start MY LIFE. And so, I marched into Citi Habitats and took the first place they showed me - a fully refurnished apartment in Alphabet City. For a girl who suffered panic disorder from the age of 11 this was a huge turning point. Not only was I going to leave the comfort of my parents’ home, but I was going to live ALONE in the East Village. HOLY SHIT…

As I’ve been packing, many memories have been flooding my head. Here’s just some:

1. My First Night - Sometime in September 2002, I spent my first night here. I remember walking home from work and stopping at 7A to have dinner - ALONE. I ate, read the Village Voice and went back to my apartment for the first time. I took a shower, laid down on my futon (minus frame…I never did get the frame) and read a book (I think it was More…Now…Again by Elizabeth Wurtzel). I had no TV, no stereo (this was before iPods…holy fuck) and just stared out the window at the Empire State Building. I was here. In New York City. Living the dream. On my own. It was overwhelming.

2. Fourth of July 2005 - July Fourth has always been my second favorite holiday. I always spent it in the Bronx, with friends and family, and - for the first time (with the exception of my year in Disney) I was alone. I got a 6-pack and some Camel Lights and sat on my fire escape, watching the fireworks from afar. Tears started streaming down my cheeks as I saw them light up the sky. Once again, I thought, here I am in New York City…on my own…needing no one….wanting no one…enjoying life, my life.

3. Sex, Drugs and Rock ’n Roll - I never partied or slept around in college. In fact, I was pretty prudish (if you can believe that). All that changed when I moved into this apartment. I felt liberated, in control, and free of all the trepidation that had held me back before. After all, if I brought a man or an eight ball here I was bringing it to MY APARTMENT…so I set the rules. And so, this apartment is where I re-discovered my sexuality (with men, with women, with multiple partners) and re-claimed the youth I didn’t get to experience in college. Living alone set me free and helped me define MY LIFE, MY LIMITS, MY NEEDS. There is no price you can put on that.

4. Writing - Whether it was 9 am or 9 pm, this apartment has always served as the ultimate place for prose, the place where I have always retreated to in order to collect my thoughts. It’s where I’ve written all of this blog, where I’ve written all the chapters of my (hopefully published one day) book. It’s the place where my thoughts are free to roam uncensored and uninterrupted. And this is the only thing I will miss.

Sometimes I wonder if I should really be leaving all these fond memories behind. Am I ready to give up my personal space and share it with another? I think the answer is yes. After all, I can still dine alone; don’t want to spend another 4th of July by myself; and love partying with my beau. Plus, we met as a result of this blog. I finally met a man who loves to read what I write more than I do, a man who encourages me to write more than any other man I’ve ever known. And so, while he may be in the other room as I write these thoughts in the near future, he’ll leave me alone as I do it. That’s the reason I know it will work - because he understands that the time we spend apart is just as important as the time we spend together.