old friends - by Nix 🕊 - starting from nix

New York is unbearably pretty in fall. I’ve changed drastically in the gap between each yearly visit here. In college I used to take the $11 Megabus at 6am, crash on friends’ couches, spend all my money on museums. Years later, I feel far too indulgent. At Libertine we order warm bread, salted butter, duck confit. J and I walk to the end of the Hudson River pier and watch the ships. From there the city shimmers like a mirage. Big cities are socially overwhelming. Too many people to meet in a dimly lit bar or a house party or a coffee shop. In the crowd I find myself looking for you sometimes. In another life I would’ve texted, but in this one I didn’t. We’ve moved in different directions. I came to New York to visit 3 particular people this trip: H, A, and J. Some of my oldest and dearest friends. I’ve known H and A for 12 years and J for 7. Like a spectator, I enjoy watching their lives unfold. New tattoos, brighter apartments, a changing cast of characters. I’ve seen them euphoric, c

New York is unbearably pretty in fall. I’ve changed drastically in the gap between each yearly visit here. In college I used to take the $11 Megabus at 6am, crash on friends’ couches, spend all my money on museums. Years later, I feel far too indulgent. At Libertine we order warm bread, salted butter, duck confit. J and I walk to the end of the Hudson River pier and watch the ships. From there the city shimmers like a mirage. Big cities are socially overwhelming. Too many people to meet in a dimly lit bar or a house party or a coffee shop. In the crowd I find myself looking for you sometimes.