New York City embodies a greater optionality than any city in the world. Here, we can shop at any store we like. We can have our dresses and suits tailor-made. Whatever food we are craving is a cab ride away. And even coffee can be delivered. Walking into MarieBelle Chocolates in Soho is overwhelming. As any bakery, shoe store, or even library typically is for me—so many flavors, combinations, and imagined scenarios. It is a wonderful thing to dream big. But, perhaps the biggest dream is to know yourself well enough to know exactly what you want and make a decision.
New York is a box of chocolates personified. Nothing brings that to light more than being single. And because of it, there is no better place to be single. As I started to get out more, the fun of having just gotten out of a relationship was being down a rabbit hole. I could swim in my own little fantasmal Wonderland with everything right in front of me. There will always be a man who asks for your number, buys you drinks, or wants to take you to dinner. It tickles to see which one sends flowers, follows up with an email the next day, or requests your friendship on Facebook. The excitement of grazing over the online menu from the restaurant where he made reservations, or downloading a few songs from the band he is taking you to see play puts a kick in your step. You almost wonder…why choose?
If we ordered everything on the menu we’d be fat. If we bought every pair of pumps, we’d be in debt. And if we never allowed ourselves to connect to a partner, we’d be shallow, and probably end up hurting someone. As much as I wanted to be fanciful, have a different date every night, and enjoy the ride, I will always be a relationship girl. Which is how I ended up with a plus one to a friend’s wedding last summer. Being that I didn’t have a plus one at the time, I took a hot date: my younger brother. Also attending the wedding was one of my best friends, Meredith, who was newly single as well. In our new dresses, articulately applied makeup, and manicured toes, walking into this wedding was like walking into a candy store. Out of town for the night? Cute guys from college? Open bar? Jackpot.
Amidst a band, tuxedos, and stunning floral arrangements (or the bright lights of a city) it’s easy to get lost. You are dancing, and trying to keep count, but your feet can’t hear you. But even when your dance card is full, and you are caught in the moment of a twirl to Twistin’ the Night Away, when the right guy looks at you from across the room, with a smile and a pink tie, the spinning stops. When you think you are lost, sometimes the right person finds you and helps you remember who you are. I didn’t dance with anyone else for the rest of the night.