MORE TIME TO DANCE
a zine of poetry
At 24 years old, I moved to New York City.
I grew up idolizing Manhattan icons like Andy Warhol and Madonna whose lives appeared so beautifully arranged on their respective thrones. What interested me most about these figures was the stories before their prime that made them seem more human. The drama before the praise and the quiet before the applause. I needed to know I could get there too. Even in a small way, knowing I could make some noise.
Although I read often about how my heroes “made it,” I quickly realized living here was much different than studying it. So much happened within those first few months alone. I began dating openly as a gay man for the first time. I had my first kiss, then soon after, my first poignant heartbreak. I made new friends at clubs but had trouble keeping them. I missed family but kept my queer identity secret.
I ate almost every dinner by myself, my diet mostly consisting of cheap pizza and soda, as I walked around infamous spots like Bowery and Bleecker where my favorites worked and played. Loneliness hit me like a spotlight. Although nobody knew, I moved through crowds feeling exposed in a place I used to have no doubt I would thrive in.
Four years later, I look back on my naivety with pride.
Taking responsibility for my story meant accepting no part of it could have gone differently.
I needed to experience everything exactly as it happened. My pain became triumphant when I finally created with it. Friendships came easier when I let people in. I could connect with loved ones only when I shared my side of the gossip they heard. Love wasn’t about keeping someone; it was about enjoying New York comfortably alone.
At the time of writing this zine, I was 28 years old. I still have—hopefully—a lot of life ahead of me. Yet I carry a responsibility to father my past with patience and care. He still needs me sometimes. I still sense him tighten up when a person leans in for a hug.
Thank you
Linda Regula, my late mentor for always believing in me. My friends, your love doesn’t go unnoticed. New York City, for making this happen.