I arrived at twenty four knowing nobody, and built all of this from scratch

I landed here at twenty four with two suitcases and the name of one person, who turned out to have moved. Everything I have in this city I assembled myself, including this, and I want to say plainly that people were welcoming in a way I had not expected and entirely useless at the practical part. Nobody introduces anybody. You are welcome and you are on your own.

Thirty one now, the west end, six years into rope. The two facts are related. I learned this the way I learned everything else here, which was slowly and in public, getting things wrong in front of strangers who were polite about it. I have never had the version where somebody's friend vouches for you and a door opens.

That has left me with a very high tolerance for slowness and none at all for people who assume a shared context. If you are going to tell me how things are done, say which way you mean, because I have probably learned a different one and neither of us will notice for a month.

I want one person and a long stretch of time. I want to be somebody's ordinary Wednesday. And I would rather it were with somebody who has also had to build a life here out of nothing, because it shortens a conversation I have grown tired of having.