by Daniel Feldman
A lot of my adult decisions are based on convenient parking. That’s what I said to my now ex-girlfriend as she asked me what my non-negotiables would be for our hypothetical future wedding. Easy parking and a good view, I explained. She wanted a live band and for there to be no wedding party. She had been in too many of them already and realized the cruel side of the double edged sword.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her then, that I couldn’t actually picture the affair happening at all. It felt more like a story to me than my reality. One in which our families found parking easily and had an ocean or a mountain or a forest as a background for the ceremonies, devoid of bridal party drama, to the soundtrack of a live band.
None of my decisions are based on convenient parking now. I sold the white Subaru Forester that took us on road trips to AirBnBs with great parking and even better views. Sometimes I glance at a street sign in Brooklyn, 200 miles from where her story continues. I read the confusing parking directions and think of all the times we drove in circles looking for convenient parking. I sigh, why do I feel like less of an adult now? Because I’m starting over? Because I’m in a brand new city? Because I let go of the only things that fastened my pathway to the earth? Or is it because now, none of my decisions are based on convenient parking?
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