My New York

I’m so in love with this city it takes my breath away. The feeling of walking around with nowhere to be and everywhere to go. The skyline at dusk walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. A single persons curse and paradise. The most walkable and entertaining city. Grungy, charming, harsh, crowded. New York is everything. I’ve looked all over the world, but there’s no other like it.

Those who say it doesn’t have a personality don’t know it. The city is alive. You are alive with it. It’s ups and downs, It’s glamour and ugliness. It’s all a part of you and you are in it. It breathes, moves, dances, eats and sleeps. I’m in love with it. I leave and see images of my city that bring me to tears. Its mine. Songs are written about it, books, movies, poems, but how can you fully capture its presence?

There are days when I’m tired of this city. I hate it. The people are exhausting. It’s crazy, I’m frustrated. A moment of peace is fleeting. Hot, sticky bodies, smashed together on the subway. Hair in my face, an elbow in my back. We sit like this for 10 minutes. Get out of my way. I can’t get anywhere. I just want to go to bed. Delays, people on edge, looking for an argument.

You’ll never forget the feeling of walking in Central Park on a fall day. The buzz of the holidays, energy, bright lights, pushing through the crowds. The excitement of spring, fresh air, the city is in love, music and bare skin. Hot summer days, kids playing in fountains, walking around aimlessly on summer nights. Nostalgic, but nothing like home.

Dynamic, friendly one minute, cold and unforgiving the next. I’m in the middle of it all, but I’m all alone. Unpredictable, but that’s the fun of it right? Something for everyone, but where do I fit it? What’s my part? How can I walk away from the city that has everything? It’s not just a home, it’s a lover, a relationship, an experience, a way of life. How can I leave? Just walk away. What is there after New York?

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