I grab my keys and wallet and slam the door shut. My feet pound against every step as I run down four flights of stairs. It is past midnight and most of my neighbors are sleeping. I hope they can’t hear my feet or the sound of my heart beating against my chest.
I push through the front doors and onto 87th Street. There are people sitting on the front steps of the church across the street. It’s late. Despite being the Upper East – I should not wander too far from home. After Reindeer dumped me, there was one night I put on my IPod and went for a long walk along the river. In retrospect that was stupid and an excellent way to get killed. But the pain in my heart overpowered the sane in my brain.
I walk west along 87th Street with no particular destination in mind. I cannot even figure out what happened. This all feels so surreal. Did we really get into a friendship ending fight over an Obama hat? Was it that big of a deal for him to say thanks? Was it really something I could not get over? When I reach Park Avenue, I want to keep walking – but I have enough sense this time to worry about being killed, mugged or raped. So I head south along Park Avenue, there are at least five doormen per block. I walk to 79th Street in a bit of a daze. I cannot process how I feel. I would think I’d feel happy, or sad. Or relieved. Or crushed. But I am numb. Numb. Numb.
This is, this is – I don’t know what this is. But I run it through my head in a repeated relay and it I still feel numb.