First New York Love

New York was one place to find love, some even traveled to the big apple island just for the taste of love; unfortunately for the natives, it’s usually where we experienced our first love and if you are reading this blog post, you have probably also met the inevitable ‘NYC’ break-up.

Don’t be offended at all. That’s what first loves are for, to start your path- this is ultimately the first sculpture you craft in the molding of your heART.  

I wouldn’t be a true New Yorker if I didn’t point out the most obvious; there is literally nowhere else to run after the moment you two decided to coexist in each other’s lives. Meaning, unless you choose to move to another city after this breakup, there is a high possibility you will run into your ex, one way or another. It’s the universe tricky way of asking, ‘Are you strong enough to withstand the endurance of your future, or will you dive right into the arms of your past?’


A Georgia Peach That Must’ve Ripen

It was Saturday night in the city, everyone seems to be out in the town, several university guys, college girls in their twenties- all from the most pristine, and if I may add, expensive universities in New York; Fordham U, New York Tech, Columbia. Even the not so expensive, Everest college, students came out to enjoy the night. It was cold as ever, however, my friend from Georgia- Nicolas- had made it into town a month ago and though we kept good contact over the phone, he always egged on for a club session, so for the night, I obliged.

On the walk over, he continuously changed the subject towards a guy named Chip, someone he’d met online the first week he joined Facebook (it was about the same time he moved to New York). Chip was also a guy Nicolas was in a relationship with only two days after knowing. 

“Why are you wearing that ugly Yankees hat? You can either wear a Yankee fitted or a snap back, no one wears a Yankee snapback. You look stupid.” 

“What? I always see these on Tumblr, New York.”

“Wait, what?” I burst into laughter. 

“Tumblr for New York City, Chip brought it for me anyway. He knows I like baseball, and he asked for nudes of me only in the hat, I think he likes it on me.”

“You don’t say,”

I’ve never heard of him before today, this Chip character, but he was all Nicolas could talk about- I almost felt like our mothers were friends since childhood. It might’ve even looked as though I was jealous, but trust me- I held no resentment to their union. They seemed as though they were happy, and that is all I could ever want for my friend… I was just afraid of the pace that they were going, I’ve seen the path and it was hard to come back from.

It was the classic tale of the big apple, you guys date for a while, one guy promises the other one ‘the world’, you fall in love wayyyyyyyy too fast, the ‘Honeymoon Phase’ dies, something falls through (An ex reappeared, their life became too complicated [Or at least they want you to think so], or the worst of them all, he just goes to find someone new. When in doubt, you will probably be the one who ends up in turmoil at the end.

Two weeks and a Sunday hangover later, Nicolas called me to tell me he received a text from Chip, it said he thought they should ‘slow down for a while’; two weeks after that message, they broke up.


The Number Game

“Well, that’s where he messed up, he put the emojis on his contact. That’s always the alarm. For a while, you have to not care a bit. In the beginning.” Ivory, a college sophomore I knew when my older ‘sister’ was attending F.I.T- we got along a few times and by that, I meant- made out in the movies, even fondled around sometimes- but nothing major. “Only ’cause you never know how they moving, people act real funny when they get comfortable, bro.” I had to admit, I had begun to see him differently as time passed, less as a play toy and more as a friend. It was one of the only reasons I kept him around, that and because he was sorta homosexual but worked with the mind of a heterosexual male. He did things like call me ‘Bro’, and sag his pants four inches lower than his waist, but most of all- he was protective of anyone with a thread of femininity. Possibly because he was a confused Bi-sexual that fell in love with sex as opposed to the opposite sex; the universe could only know.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what made him the wrong fit for me, no matter how gorgeous this chocolate man actually was- he would never commit to me, and I wouldn’t try to force him, it would drive him insane. 

On the other hand, he was a lovely ken doll/ magic eight ball.

Something I could play with when I’m bored and also shake for answers and clarity.

“You keep the number like it is- hell, screenshot something in ya messages and send it to him- lettem know the number not even in ya book.” He continued on his rampage, correlating with perfect brushstrokes- styling a full brown oval, and overlapping a wider scale of the same pink as Patrick Star from Spongebob Squarepants. I tried oh so hard to concentrate on his work as opposed to the muscles that rippled through his ribs, or his masculine musk that seemed to drive me insane. I looked down at the words he had scribbled on the left-hand corner and felt all arousal diminish. The painting was titled, ‘A self-portrait of my desire for maintained vagina’.


The Mutuals And The Gifts They Possess

The first complication with breaking up always seems to be the same in every circumstance, whether it be homo or hetero. The mutual friends. This is the classifying moment you finally realize so many things about the people gravitating around you. You realize who was really in your corner, who was really rooting for your relationship, you discover what your friends will do to mend or repair the relationship, or the stakes they will enforce to diminish your new friendship or the common understanding you have laid out with your ex-lover.

Common understanding? The law passed by each party of the (now terminated) relationship. A set of rules and guidelines- locations- to conduct by regarding dating elsewhere. Etc: No dating the same people, no invitations to each other’s weddings (If it happens in the next two to five years), no dating best friends (!!!), one person now has ownership over the Italian place on 137th& Lexington, the other can have Pinkberry on Houston and Broom St. Discovering who has the J.Crew in Soho and the Uniqlo on Fifth Avenue; it was this type of official business that has helped the world continue to go ’round, or at least the NY part of the world.

We all feel as though nothing will change between the mutual friend and that could’ve been true…

Except for this fact, most likely you are going to have two individuals who are potentially hurting inside, so it’s only natural to want to talk about how this change is affecting you- the pursuit to find some sense of security with someone who knows the both of you will take control; you will return once again to a MUTUAL FRIEND.

It’s important to finalize which friends are on your side in Tug of War before you’re the one who ends up in the mud.


Where must it end?

On a much warmer day in the mid of December, Nicolas invited me to go for a cone or cup topped with sprinkles at Cold Stone on Times Square. I knew he had gone several times with Chip (his ex), and although I knew the memory infused in chocolate rocky road would bring more depression than solace for him, I thought it would only be suitable to indulge in a banana split to heal my aches of being single as well. Possibly it was in the middle of the waiter sprinkling chocolate chips on Nicolas’ cone, but he turned away for just a second and that was the moment he spotted the actual Chip; squatted in the darkest corner of the very crowded ice cream parlor- but looking closer you could tell that it wasn’t a stranger by his shoulder, he knew the boy… His ex was really here!

Chip was sharing a strawberry sundae with the other boy, trying to catch him on the nose with a finger full of whipped cream, a ripe cherry on his tongue and a face full of joy. “Is that enough chips for you?” The waiter called for our attention, I hadn’t even mumbled the name ‘Chip’ once today, mind you- the waiter said it almost three times, almost summoning Chip from some other world.

An LGBT Bettlejuice!

I slowly turned to Nicolas with a warm smile, hoping he wasn’t phased by everything that had happened in only sixty seconds. But to my surprise, he actually shared the same smile I had. 

“No, thank you.” he confessed to the waiter.”I’ve had enough of him to last a lifetime.”

Nicolas swiped his cone from the cashier and sent it plunging into the air towards Chip and his date, allowing the cone to land dead on and right into the back of the mistress hat. Chip looked over at us with a sense of deep remorse and all he could do was keep his hand steady on the boy’s arm, sadly- Chip knew Nicolas would’ve probably killed the boy given how angry he was. I wondered how Nic could dive a vanilla cone into the air and hit his target spot on, but I slowly remembered something- Nicolas used to coach little league in Georgia.

Good thing this little soiree wasn’t taking place in the bating section of Modell’s Sporting Goods.


One Comment Add yours

  1. Demetria says:

    I just discovered this and love the articles…poetry and such….I love the writing.


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