Dear Apt B2,

Dear Apt B2,

Thank you for your beautiful crown molding, sconces and archway. My first real kitchen to cook and eat in; a New York dream that most never experience. The first time I saw you, my jaw dropped at the possibilities of how I would decorate you and what could happen between you and I. You were big enough to hold real, adult furniture, plants and my creativity. Spacious. White walls that reflected the outside light; where golden hour tree shadows danced in front of me like lovers as I laid on my chaise lounge. And while heartache walked in and out of your front door, heartache that I myself was responsible for, you also brought me joy. Some days that joy felt infinite. When NYC suffocated me, you gave me room to breathe. Within your walls I built soft beds of blankets with corners to read and an art station where I painted a future I didn’t yet know existed. The kitchen remained a dimension of its own. A kitchen that would burst open every single Sunday like molten lava chocolate cake - a sweet delight of unlimited love - and the sadness when it’s done and gone. Over. The last bite. I stood inside of you, alone. 

Your fire escape was my Narnia. I crawled out of my bedroom window to experience freedom and here I drifted into books, wrote for hours, ate meals and drank wine. Here, I built a world. I cried and wrote a new world, all while getting tan. As years passed by, quiet morning coffee turned into longings. As life changed, my needs changed - and so the story goes. Our only guarantee in this life is change.

While I wasn’t ready to let you go, I knew in my heart that I outgrew you. We did our best. I wanted to stop writing, painting, cooking and thinking about how different life could be and actually do something about it. A life beyond the fire escape of dreams and the kitchen of meals meant to serve ten but only ever eaten by one. 

It’s time to walk. It’s time. For 14 years you’ve been my longest romance.

Thank you for teaching me how to be alone and how to love myself. How to create something beautiful and let it go.

Goodbye, sweet B2.

My love awaits someone or something else. Somewhere else.
I will always love you.

Tina