all the words melted away today

text and photography: katie beth

This is so much of New York to me. Of hands and cold and clutching tall cylinder's of tea. Of numb ears cracking, pens in each of our pockets, and twin phrases in our mouths. Of each seeing the others in ourselves...the turns of our wrists, the expressions between our eyebrows, the way our throats formed words. Also of discovering just how fundamentally different we are after all.

We're told that we have to see and breathe the lights and signs and cars and exhaust and crowds to have seen New York. But we didn't want to see New York...we wanted to live in it. And oh did we. From the soon-familiarity of the block on which we lived, to quick runs to the corner market for butter or eggs, to the feeling of surety deep in my bones while walking to move the car for the street sweeper, walking and happy and knowing which turn to take, which sign to follow; knowing a strange temporary belonging in that little square mile of world that became familiar. It's breathing the air and watching the people and finding myself challenged, strengthened, capable. Those are what I carry with me. There are many valuable and beautiful pieces of this place to capture and hold and dream over, but I like my little curated collection.

We did snatch glimpses of the New York we were told we would see, and every time we can into it, I understood even deeper within myself how much I didn't miss seeing it at all. 

How much more precious are the memories of seeing her thoughts come out and unlock the other. Or feeling the depth of ache and the height of hope in the same moment. Or watching them walk ahead and not being shot through with fear that I am alone.