I don’t know why they look or smile, but I am encouraged by these strangers to run faster. It’s cloudy on the bridge and yet no one is afraid of the possibility of rain. They are all prepared with their cameras, holding hands, sitting on benches, watching the water, walking the bridge, running, biking. It’s all the same. Everyone’s got a plan and maybe they are all happy. I know I am happy. I’ve never been happier. I owe it to myself to be happy. I’ve been running for a long time in this city and today I’m really happy and I like these happy strangers that want to make the best out of a cloudy, but warm day. I owe it to them to be happy, to be alive and running and smiling and loving life. I owe it to my father and my mother who do everything to make me happy. I owe it to my friends to be happy because they are there for me, when I cry, when I am sad, when I am breaking apart and afraid. I owe it to my fellow writers who support me and tell me to keep writing. I owe it to the god I’ve created for myself to be happy.
I run across the bridge and walk a bit when my sides ache. I run a second time, slower, and stopping half-way. I lean against the edge and watch the cars below and the water in front of me and the Statue of Liberty and the people who are below. It’s so beautiful, being here, and breathing the air and the wind and the seeing everything. It’s so beautiful I might cry.