Tonight my window's open wide as the golden-petaled daffodils that line the sidewalks. It was a beautiful weekend in NYC. The spring fashions were finally unhindered by jackets and sweaters. Flip flops revealed pale, boot-distressed feet. My freckles square-danced in the sunlight.

I walked to Broadway today and found a street fair in full swing. Cade and I meandered through part of it, looking at the irregular Bloopers underwear being peddled and smelling the burning of corn, funnel cakes, and bare shoulders. This weather reminds me of when I first moved here - how I didn't have anyone to walk about with, so I just walked in crowds like these. How I never felt alone nor together, just a comfortable in-between feeling.

The alone-together feeling occurred last night, too. Cade and I had gone to Long Island City, because this is the place that keeps coming up when we think about relocation for money's sake. We were sitting on a bench and gazing at Manhattan across the river. "We're close enough to see cars, but not hear them," Cade observed. The skyline looked so beautiful and twinkly and innocent. It's Long Island City's nightlight. "Surely that can't be the city that seems to eat up so many souls, the city that is a cruel mistress to all the driven, naive fools who think half the battle is getting there," I thought.

Cade was right next to me, yet I was very far away. I was thinking about how beautiful all of it is, but how even the most spectacular things become familiar. Skyline, you don't transfix me anymore, not like you used to. I'm not sure it's a bad thing, perhaps just a nagging reality I ought to attempt to fight. Like crow's feet.

I snuggled closer to Cade on the bench and we watched people in their apartments, flicking lights on and off, watching tv, getting dressed to go out, cooking... We took the train back to that glowing beacon, moths to its flame, and baked impromptu snickerdoodles together-together.

The beauty of the pictures Cade took in Central Park yesterday shocks me. Sunday has a way of making Saturday look especially beautiful. It's essentially the parade of less attractive bridesmaids designed to elevate the bride to goddess, which also explains the general hideousness of bridemaids' dresses. I'm together-alone now with Cade. He's the finger responsible for the pictures that warm me like Saturday.