I did my final lap around the reservoir and looked across the water at the Upper East Side skyline. The building windows were gold tinted. The black wrought iron poles were pink from the sunset reflection and I felt almost relaxed. For the first time in 3 years I didn’t have a potential suitor in mind. There were no crushes in my head. No lusts I was considering. No possible dates for the future or relationships pending. I was just me. I was just me with a job, with friends, family and a vacation coming up soon. Work wasn’t killing me. I was just me, as a writer who writes 2 nights a week and who runs. Runs a lot and walks like a maniac. I had an apt, no car, a few bills to pay, but little to worry about except for the national economy. I had a recent negative memory, but the longer time was, the fainter the memory. I was the me who could take care of myself. I was the me who knew I wanted to see the every corner of the world and meet lots of people and hear loud music and smell beautiful flowers and dance to thumping bass. I was the me that loved the feel of hot sun on my arms. The only thing I could want for, I wasn’t rushing. And the only person rushing was my mom and my grandma. But it didn’t matter.
The trees over me were dark, a picturesque comparison to the Technicolor water of the reservoir. And I was ok.