the last grand street days

The best way to get into a pool is not toe by toe by limb, slowly inching your way into the cold water, but all at once, cannonballing into the thing, feeling free and great for jumping right into the thing. There is also an analogy about a band-aid that is similar, about ripping it right off, but that doesn’t seem as appropriate, conjures images of pain, suffering, hurt.

I decided today that I was moving out. It had been something that I had thought about for a while, ready for change after living in this apartment for four years. Last night, Ethan got legal papers from someone on the street saying that a bank was trying to foreclose on our house, that our landlord has not been paying her mortgage payments. And while not dire, while even if it were to be foreclosed upon, the end result of us being kicked out would be months away, this just made my desire to move take on more urgency.

And today, a bit strung out on coffee and the night before, sex with some skinny boy far out in Brooklyn, I decided that, yes, I am moving out, that this would be my last month living here at this Grand Street apartment, probably my last month living in Williamsburg. Hopefully, I will move into Ben and Gabriel’s loft, though that seems unlikely. And so probably I will move into Niki’s apartment, which despite being no longer in walking distance of so many things (Bedford, Greenpoint, the East River, McCarren Park, Metropolitan), is right across the street from a big park, is close to lots of tacquerias, is a Spanish speaking area (more impetus to learn this language!), and is an apartment without roaches! I am really excited about this. Everything looks more beautiful, as it always does before goodbye.

Last night, at this gallery opening, I met this boy briefly, exchanged names. Half an hour later, he came up to me and said goodbye, that he was leaving. Don’t leave, stay, I said. He said, Come with me. And I said Okay, got into a car with two complete strangers heading to an unknown neighborhood to hang out at some random girl’s house. That was a rash decision and though there were odd points to the night, there were points to them regardless. There was a sense of living, of having fun, of doing new things, of being present. Today, with my announcement to my roommates that I was moving out, it felt a lot like hopping into that car with strangers last night, aware that I was doing something audacious I wasn’t totally sure about, but glad to have made the decision, excited about what it might lead to.