Stop. Stop. Stop.
I cannot go any further without saying this.
I have been so fuckin' lucky. I have real friends. Moreover, I have real friendships. Real, solid, impervious, all-encompassing friendships. Unconditional. Unfaltering.
Thriving in New York is impossible without love. And I have the best love of all. Real friends. People I have known for almost half my life.
For a few years now, I have been able to enjoy my friends at whim. Hop on a subway, Jump in a cab, walk down the street. They are there. Post haste.
And now, life is changing again. As it does. As it has. I, too, have left this city that I love. For months at a time, I have chased other horizons. Our paths are diverging again. In the space of physics. In the span of time.
My little chosen family is dispersed again. He is in Indiana. She is going to work in India.
And I feel my heart stretch again -- the muscle is surpisingly facile, boundless in its reach. As she strides forward.
File under: Vodka, Friendship, Spuyten Duyvil.