I Heart Long Island

Three years ago I had an argument with my ex-boyfriend who was from Pennsylvania. I told him that I wasn’t leaving Long Island and if I did at any point, I would have to move back. His lack of understanding my passion for the Island was one of the many reasons we broke up. Looking back on it now, I may have been subconsciously using my passion as an excuse to avoid taking the next step with him, but that’s neither here nor there.

Words can’t describe how I feel when I drive on the Robert Moses Causeway and see the sun rise over the Great South Bay and catch a glimpse of the never ending ocean on the horizon. I love our small towns, vineyards, farms and, when I’m feeling like a college student again, the local bars.

I love the change in seasons and how it never gets too hot, but never gets too cold. I don’t venture into Manhattan often, but I like that I’m just a train ride away when I feel the need to meet up with a city-living friend or visit a museum.

I love the pizza and a good bagel.

Sometimes I forget about all the things that I love because all I can think about lately are all the things I hate.

I hate that I work 35 miles away from my job, but it takes me an hour to get there because of traffic. I also hate that I have to plan my entire existence on Long Island, and leaving Long Island, on traffic. I hate that when I’m in Nassau County I have to ask questions like, “If I park here, am I going to get towed?” or “Does it have a separate lot or do I need to park on the street?”

I hate that people aren’t polite enough to say thank you when you hold the door open for them or let them cross the street without running them over. I hate that one person will cause 20 minutes of traffic just to get someplace 10 seconds faster. I hate that gas is 10 cents more expensive here than other places in the state.

I hate that property taxes cost more than most mortgages. I hate that the cheapest rent in a complex in a decent area is $1,100 a month plus utilities. I hate that the cheaper option is living in someone’s basement.

Most of all, I hate that the cost of living is so high and the salaries are so low that in order to take the next step in a serious relationship, I need to ask my parents to convert part of their house into a separate apartment or move away.

In the past two years I’ve been hit with a hard dose of reality. One day I’m going to have to leave.