May 2019: apartment hunting. This was my first time living in New York City not in a dorm, but in my own space, with a roommate who I was excited about. I made my way to 218 Thompson Street, quickly realizing it was in the heart of Greenwich Village, steps from Washington Square Park. My dreams felt just within reach of reality.
I ascended the six flights of stairs passing walls with cracks and chipped paint, finally arriving at the door marked 28. The door opened, revealing a tiny kitchen with no extra space beyond the basic appliances. In the bathroom, it was possible to sit on the toilet and wash your hands at the same time, if necessary. The bedrooms offered decent living space and ample closet space. The light pouring in from the large windows illuminated the old wood floors, making the unit quite charming. The realtor said we had to decide that day if we wanted it. My parents were skeptical, but not even an hour later, I was typing my name on every page of the lease. I imagined my soon-to-be new life, in my favorite city with endless possibilities.
I moved in a month later in the middle of June. It took most of the day and seven people to lug my roommate and my belongings up to the apartment. My parents headed back to New Jersey and I looked around at the first room I had all to myself, let alone my own apartment. For the entire summer I was living in the two bedroom apartment all alone, while my roommate stayed in Connecticut. She did not tell me I would be there all alone until she had fully moved in, only to leave for months. I ventured through the city daily, attempting to occupy my endless time alone.
If the weather was permitting, I often went running along the West Side Highway. I was looking for distractions to get my mind off the fact that I would now be by myself, despite how many people I was surrounded by. I was accompanied by my phone, AirPods and keys. My music drowned out most of the sounds, but taking in my surroundings of summer in Greenwich Village stimulated all of my senses. I sought a sense of connection in everything.
I walked down Thompson Street, glancing over to the park as I headed towards Bleecker Street. The old West Village walk-ups and small shops merged into slightly deserted streets and then new, luxurious condos as I got closer to the river. I wondered if that would be me a few years from now, doing exactly what I was doing then. I would need a new dream to chase.
I began at Chelsea Piers, passing the tennis courts being occupied with serious matches and basketball courts crowded by teen boys playing one another. Dogs, moms with strollers, people in business clothes and other runners made their way down the path alongside me. I wondered how many of them lived alone.
I rounded the turn along the pier as the lawn came into view. I chose a spot on the grass and began whatever workout I made up that day. While I enjoyed working out, I never had the motivation to run until now. Although I was alone, I was doing new things on my own, creating somewhat of a routine for myself.
Once I finished I sat on the grass looking across the water towards New Jersey. I wondered what my sister was doing, how I could work out with her if she were here. If my dad were here I could take him to that Italian restaurant I passed on Ninth Avenue. The laughs we would share and the conversations we would have.
I stood up and ran back down the pier towards where I started, stopping at the water fountain on the way, waiting in line to take a sip. In New York City you could share a water fountain with someone before you shared a laugh. I continued across the street, walking down whichever block I strayed towards that day. I prepared to climb the six flights of stairs to shower, already tired from my run.
I changed into my outfit for the day and headed back outside. I entered Irving Farm and greeted the employee, one of the handful of verbal interactions I would have almost everyday. I waited for my iced Americano to be made. I took my coffee and pulled my sunglasses over my eyes and crossed the street into Washington Square Park. I picked a bench and sipped the cold drink, wondering when I would feel satisfied on my own. I had complete freedom to learn and explore, but no one to share it with. My dreams of living in New York on my own played out far differently than I expected. However, by being alone in New York, I would learn more about myself than ever before.