New York City: Over and Out

Most people arrive homeless to New York City. They sleep on couches and they crash with friends. If they’re lucky, they eventually find a too-small place with a rent they can almost afford. For me, it was the opposite. I had roommates I loved and a place to live from the moment I arrived. But I spent my last sweet city week surfing couches like it was Hawaii. I moved out of 3A and the East Village, and onto a sofa (the best sofa) in Brooklyn. Even though I was homeless, I still always had a place to go.

These past two weeks have been a marathon of filing final stories, dining on late night dinners and downing happy hour drinks. I’ve eaten my way through all of my favorite New York City spots with all of my favorite New York City people. And I had the greatest send off a girl could ask for: A Cinco de Mayo/birthday party complete with make-your-own tacos and 36 candles (the whole box, I guess), the phone book game, Tears for Fears covers plus Dave Kellan originals, and a day-long barbeque with all of the people I love. I even had an entourage waiting with me for my final car to JFK.

But that’s the thing about ending it all on a high note, it only makes it harder to say goodbye.

People who travel say you take something with you when you go: Stories, experiences, memories, pictures. But if you’re lucky, you leave something good behind, too. After six years of living in New York, I’ve done just that. I’ve left behind coworkers who feel like friends, friends who feel like sisters, and roommates who feel like family. I’ve left behind some of the most amazing people I know. People who remind me constantly that should I ever find myself homeless in New York again, I’ll always have a place to go.