A Love Letter

Dear New York City,

I must admit I have been unfaithful. For a fleeting moment this week, I allowed myself to believe I was done with you for good, ready to stop this painful relationship we share and find greener pastures.

Sometimes you hurt me. At times you are cruel. And suddenly, this other city came around and offered me the opportunity to leave you. It showed me sunshine and ocean... and it made me think, made me wonder, what I may be missing out on because of you.

There is a whole world out there, New York. I know its hard to believe, but you are not the only city I may be able to love. Perhaps San Francisco will be more mellow, LA a bit more carefree... perhaps, New York, you are not my soulmate after all.

I almost betrayed you, New York. Almost. But then I missed you. I missed your abuse and the heartache you cause... because despite it all, I know you are good to me. I know that in your own way, you have made my life better and without you, I would cease to be me.

I need you, New York. Our love affair has only just begun I feel.

With love and admiration,
Emily Rae

Misadventures of two midwest girls in the big bad city

K-star and I are going to be compiling a book of the many zany adventures of the new york dating world. Such stories will include (though are not limited to) the following men, all of which we have IN FACT been on dates with:

-Those who think they are vampires and actually put in custom sized teeth at the stroke of midnight
-The ones convinced they are being haunted by a ghost who actually collects their fingernail trimmings
-The secretly married with 3 children at home investment bankers
-A sleazy boss of your roommate who makes dirty phone calls from the office phone and takes you to a sex club on the 2nd date
-Those who cannot get it up
-Those who may in fact be underage
-The ones that think "i am still in love with my ex boyfriend" means "sure, i would love to go out with you again, feel free to stalk me"
-Ones that take off early from a date to sell cocaine to executives of Burberry
-The one who shows up for the first date over 20 pounds heavier than the photo they shared with you online
-(My personal favorite) The boy who takes you out for the first time to see a documentary movie about his uncle's threesome marriage along with his ENTIRE extended family (mom, mom's girlfriend, grandma, cousins... etc etc) and you sit next to grandma while the movie talks about how grandpa is in jail for murder
-Those who while out with a book publisher state that he has NEVER READ A BOOK IN HIS LIFE and then wonders why she doesnt think they have much in common

And of course we will have a DON'T DO THESE THINGS section.
For girls:
-DON'T date pervy bosses
-DON'T think the flambouyant hairdresser is just in touch with his feminine side
-DON'T date Kevin Federline lookalikes... the resemblance my not be the only similarity
-DON'T continue to sleep with boys who have girlfriends, even if they claim they are breaking up... they're NOT (which you are stuck dealing with when said girlfriend calls you)
-DON'T try to date multiple boys who are friends with each other, it will blow up in your own face
-DON'T fake a British accent, you will be stuck having to change your voicemail message and screening your calls to keep face
-DON'T fall asleep while making out with beautiful boys, they dont appreciate it
Please, feel free to share your own stories and experiences as well. This is going to be a very exciting project.

Very old poem

When i was 19 i started writing poetry for a creative writing course i was taking. I got really into it and started keeping a poetry journal which i eventually gave up on... Here's the first one i wrote... i was pretty dramatic but in my defense it was the first boy i slept with...

I see you in my mind
And my palms begin to sweat
I wonder, why?
Yet
I let you come inside me
Get inside my heart
Make chaos in my head
Bend and twist
my thoughts
Lay me
straight down on the bed
You fucked with my emotions
Just to fuck with me
But i keep coming
Back for more
Pain
Heartache
Melting at your touch
I shiver at your kiss
When it comes to loving you
I'm a sado-masocist

I need to let you go
Need to run away
Leave you
Scold you Never hold on to your memory
Straighten me up
No more curls
Sleek
Slim
I know how you like it
How to make you excited
But i'm not that girl
Thats what you said
So dont
Fuck with me anymore
I can do it to myself
Need you to hurt?
Screw with my head? No
My mind is lost
You've left me
with a mess
But when it comes to loving you
I'm a sado-masocist

My thoughts are on the brink
Cant get you off
my mind
I'm torn
I'm lost
In rags and scars
You've left my seeing blind
to your intentions
I still think i stand a chance
You're shady as a maple
So dark i cannot see
Makes me crave the sting of
Wanting you
to hold me
Kiss me
Tell me that you miss me
Even if it isnt true
I'll still pretend
I'm not
Aware of your cheap trick
Cause when it comes to you
I'm sado-masocistic

I am a rock

My father, who is above all else my hero and best buddy, used to tell me that the Simon & Garfunkel song I am a Rock always reminded him of me. Mostly because I, like him, was immensely good at supressing emotion and convincing myself that I felt nothing nor did I want to...

I always knew the song but I finally took the time to really read the lyrics closely the other day. If it weren't so completely true, I would actually be sad that I was viewed this way...

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

He loves me

Two years. Its been over two years now since Ryan and I were together. Since that heartbreaking goodbye at Heathrow Airport. Its been over two years since we were just another young couple, desperately in love but unable to be together.

We stopped saying we loved each other a long time ago. The first couple phone conversations after I left London always ended the same way, with those three little words spoken as casually as any other goodbye. But those words soon became too hard to speak, and far too painful to have to hear.

I never stopped thinking it though. I never denied that I still loved him with all my heart. If he had asked, I would have said the words again, I would not have hidden my true feelings.

When we got back in touch this past summer, love was a word we saved only for an email signature. Have a nice day- Love, Ry. How was your night? Love, Em. I sign all my correspondense with the L word. It didnt need to mean anything other than a typical sign off. But we never uttered the word aloud. It was forbidden. It was dangerous to overstep the boundary of our newly revitalized friendship.

I called him this morning. He was driving around with a friend looking for a good spot to surf (its summer in South Africa). We spoke briefly only. He brought up moving to America again. Its nice to hear him mention it but it isnt still for two more years and I dont know if I can wait in limbo quite that long.

Eventually we had to go. It always takes an extra 5 minutes just to get out all the goodbyes. Thanks for calling. Talk soon. Nice to speak with you. Be well. Have a nice day... Then a new one from him. "I love you baby."

I was in shock. I said it back and with that we ended the conversation. Are we really still in love?

Moving on

Deb and i had our tarot cards read the other night... i asked about love specifically. When the reader flipped the DEATH card my heart nearly shattered. Was I destined to live a loveless life??

"Dont be worried" she assured me. "Its not as bad as you may think."

She then went on to explain that she can see I have someone in my past that is not allowing me to move on... and until my feelings for this individual die, i will never really be happy nor will i be able to find love.

Deb agreed. "Its time to get over Ryan" she told me.

I knew she was right. I knew the cards spoke the truth. I was finally ready to forget Ryan.

Today I received an email from my dad reading:

Rae,

Guess who just called? A very strange accented young man from a far away land.

He said that he tried calling you but could not reach you. He wanted to say thanks for the books and he’ll call you tomorrow.

The ole heart throb sounded good yet I couldn’t understand most of what he said.

Cheers

How am I ever going to move on now?

In search of inspiration

I am slowly trying to find inspiration again. I can't remember where or when i seemed to lose it but i am slowing piecing together how to bring it back in my life...

Finding it in old friends, old loves, old journals...

Realising old music as new again, old fantasies as possible...

I think i came to New York desperate to be different from what i was because what i was wasnt happy... but i miss me. i miss what made me, me. i miss my histrionic, exaggerated, painfully melodramatic outbreaks of emotion- where has that girl gone? I want her back. Even if she is sad, she was always inspired to feel...

i'm almost there...