The other day, I sat with a friend sipping our afternoon lemon drop martinis. She showed me a photoalbum of her three month trip all over Europe. We reminisced about life. It was all good until we got the warm buzz and she said, "Vacations can be sheet splitters." I asked what the hell that meant. It's when you go on vacation and you break up or it's the last hurrah before you break up. OK, I got it. Another friend I know used to take all his girlfriends to Disneyland. The inevitable always followed: he broke up with them. It was a running joke to warn any of his dates from going to Mickey's town. Then it occurred to me, the joke was on me, too. I lived that in 2008. Crap! The biggest, stupidest conversation (argument) I endured with my ex, during our ridiculously drawn out divorce was his anger over our trips to NYC. He said he shouldn’t have to pay for any residual bills remaining from going to New York the previous year and he wanted compensation for having to spend any money on those vacations. He told me it was always my trip, he just went along... You know what Billy Bob? Screw you! New York was our "sheet-splitter" and I didn't even know it. I freaking hate that! The old lady card reader, who took me for 100 bucks, told me I was headed for divorce. I didn’t believe her. I just kept walking down Motte Street in Little Italy. My ex even got MY NAME tattooed on his arm. We both ignored all the stereotypical red flags. Instead, we went to Yankee games, drank in every Irish pub we could find, walked to Ground Zero, walked every inch of MY favorite city. He was just along for the ride? I guess he hated the restaurants, the Yankee games, the beer, the food...the Bubble Lounge.
I took this picture on my last trip to NYC in 2008. It's a bridge portal in Central Park. I love that city. I love the smell. I love walking back to my hotel room buzzed and laughing at 2 am. I love drinking coffee in the park every morning. All my wonderful memories collected in digital photos or imprinted on my mind contain the shadow of my ex-husband. "Sheet-splitter" vacation or not, it can't erase my love for those lights, the skyline and the energy. Someday NYC, I'm gonna live all over you. Me, my new and improved husband and my dogs. Yea. I better tatoo over my ex's name before we go:)