I was taken on the sky tram to Roosevelt Island last Friday by a guy that I met on Tinder who I have no romantic feelings for. Earlier that week, when we were talking via Snapchat, he asked me what I wanted from him. And, instead of saying, "No, I have a boyfriend." I just beat around the bush. I gave him an honest answer, though, because I told him that we sporadically talk and we sporadically hang out and I am just not in a place to be looking for a boyfriend. So, technically, I told the truth.
On the tram, I saw this amazing view of Manhattan that I've never seen before. I just turned nineteen and I want to see things in ways I've never seen before. When I was eighteen, I saw things as solely black and white with no gray area. I saw my friend's twisted relationship with a girl as a black and white thing and now, I would like to apologize to him for my harsh views since I can see the gray area.
Anyway, the view of Manhattan is spectacular.
You're going to be the first person that I've explored Roosevelt Island with and that I've taken on the Sky Tram. You're not the first person whom I've met online that I've been fortunate enough to meet in the real world. On the Sky Tram, I want to whisper in our own little bubble and, as cliché as it may be, I want to talk about the things that we aspire to be. I want you to tell me about Dublin, work, and school. I'll tell you about New York, writing, and school. I would tell you about my work-study but it's fairly mundane and not exciting. I'll point out the Empire State Building to you and offer to take you if you still have time on your trip because I've never been, either.
When we get off, we'll walk around the Island together for a bit and we can get lost: physically and in our conversation. I'll point to the spot where I saw a couple get hot and heavy the Friday that I walked on the Island to the subway station with the Tinder guy. I may even tell you my worst Tinder date. We can look at Manhattan for a bit from the island, maybe we could take a selfie together. Maybe, we could find a bench and I could read you poetry or you could tell me about the different kinds of beer you brew. I'll probably cry as we walk and I'll tell you, "It's not because I'm emotional. I have sensitive eyes. It's cold and there is a sea breeze and a land breeze, it just makes things worse."
I'll give you the option of going back to Midtown via the tram, again, or the subway. You'll probably give me the option of coming back to Manhattan another day or having this hang out be our first and last. Then, I'll debate when it is my time to visit you in Ireland. And we'll look at the city skyline, again, together.
