taylor moved to nyc last year.
I remember her always talking about doing it one day but it wasn't until she called me in february that it became set in stone. we'd do one more shoot around may before she left. my last time in her apartment going through potential outfits, playing the piano I would always mess around with any time I was there, the kitchen I spent hours cleaning up after one of her cats knocked over and broke a large bottle of olive oil during my catsitting stay, the lavender-colored closet doors I always tried convincing her to paint red (it just accents warmer whites better), the guitars, the blue couch, the plants around the living room, the corner of various art and postcards, the photo wall (she had taken down all the photos by then)—everything about that place...
so many times after taylor moved, I'd find myself out and about with nothing to do—I couldn't call my friend to see if I can pop in anymore. no teas on the patio. no gossiping the ridiculousness of being an actor in this city. no more of everything.
they wouldn't be back in los angeles until february of this year. I hosted a little get together at worklife studios when I had my unofficial residency there taking photos of all my friends (including taylor)—just a bunch of photos of dear people that would got me in hot water with instagram's content guidelines. it was good to hang out again.
they'd be in and out of this town every few months for work. either the short film they made, or other projects.
I would always tell her I'd come to her side of the country each time we said goodbye. I was expecting maybe in my 30s when I'll (hopefully) have more steady client work. travel ain't cheap. then in july I found tickets to nyc for $164 round trip...
so I fucking got em.
we saw each other one more time on the west coast. taking photos in santa monica and venice of her in this keith haring swimsuit she got online. the plan was to take more in coney island when I'd arrive.
I saw her not long after I landed in laguardia and dropped my things off in the place I was staying at. the next day we'd go to coney island and had to spook off a creep we think was masturbating to us (mainly to me of course, I know the effect I have on people). then on 10/3/25 we took photos in her new york city home.
I literally took photos of joey that morning and rushed to taylor's place because we had to get this bitch done quick for us to explore manhattan.
we had thirty minutes. we made the most of it though. and then of course we had the entire rest of the day going up and down manhattan. headed to moma, got us enamel pins to attach onto our baggu straps, headed to central park, saw a child drop his pretzel that he was giggling over just moments before tragedy, went to washington square park and were not stopped by any of those on-the-street motherfuckers. guess my pinstriped shirt, suspenders, and enamel pinned bag wasn't enough to stand out in the big apple...
the only reason I came to the city was for taylor, truly. a cherished friendship that now exists in two cities. memories made nationwide. more blessings to count.
maybe in due time I'll make the move yonder, and we'll have more chances to make together again.
