So, I fell in love with New York at a young age. I’m not sure if it was the grand hustle of it all or if I lusted for something different. However, I felt a pull that I just could shake, but perhaps I was more embarrassed about it than I thought. My family realized that I had grasped something and that I wouldn’t let go when I was 13. By the time I was 16 it was truly clear that my love for the city wasn’t just a lustful thought. It was rather an almost reality.
I remember sitting in the cafeteria at the age of 14. My friends and I were dreaming about what colleges we were going to go to and what we were going to be. Looking back, it’s funny that none of us quite followed those paths. I kept my path a secret. I held it tight to my heart. New York was calling my name and I was slowly growing up so I could actually defy gravity.I fell in love with New York at a young age. Click To Tweet
I turned 18 in a college dorm room in New York City. It was the first time I had ever been away from home for so long. My absentee ballot came one day late and I spent dark nights while the lower part of Manhattan had no power for a week because of the hurricane. I didn’t know and I don’t know how I made it through those times completely unbothered. The friends I made had escaped from the dark shadows by car, or bus, or train. After a few days, I was alone yet surrounded by others who were in the same boat as me. We rowed along and harbored friendships. I didn’t know it at the time, but after the lights came back, I would never see those people again. So, it wasn’t until that moment that I felt adversity in love.
You know that moment where you feel like you’re reaching the end of a relationship? This was something different. I was intertwined with fear and confusion about my relationship with New York City. To put it blatantly, I thought I was falling out of love. However, by the end of that first year, my love for New York was stronger than ever. Those were the best years.Life doesn't always mean getting what you want when you want it. It doesn't mean that all things come to an end. Click To Tweet
I didn’t turn 22 in New York City nor did I turn 23 in the city. We were long distance lovers, maybe perhaps fizzling into friends. The longer we were apart I could feel the hundreds of miles stretch us like a piece of chewing gum. We weren’t perfect pieces of bubble gum, but rather we were like magnets trying to find our way back.
It was a dream to be in love with New York City, but I found that distance doesn’t mean an end. Me and New York City still get along, and when I do visit, it’s just like old times. I wish to keep the memories close. Life doesn’t always mean getting what you want when you want it. It doesn’t mean that all things come to an end. Perhaps dreams do come true again. Perhaps it just takes time.
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