I have been here before, I have been in love with this City over and over. In my mind, in my youth, there was a dream, and a crush. On that first arrival night, as I saw the City loom ahead of the shuttle, I experienced the dream with my rose colored glasses and it could do no wrong. I walked the streets and was happy, was floating, was infatuated. This time around, I have been allowed more time, more ups, more downs. I have seen the Mundane Mondays and powered through the moments when it didn't seem to matter if I was here or not.
Sometimes it helps just to have someone else here to show the city, to show it off. To realize how much there is here that I take for granted, because I am secured enough to be able to do so. That no matter the downs, it is my City and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Such delicious cocktails at the well-kept secret. Such treacherous stairs into dark cellar corners, but another world hiding where jazz is live and rules are for gentlemen of old. Where quiet, idyllic Morton street is just around the corner, and deep conversation can take its time because the ice in the glass is a glacier.
I fell in love with New York long ago. But I am only recently beginning to realize that now, I love it. Come rain or come shine (or, lately, torrential downpour), it is my City. I stand by it, as it stands by me. Love, is a long time in the making.
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Isn't that the eternal struggle? The forever challenge of growing accustomed and comfortable, and in the process losing the madness in all the mundane.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm glad its love. I think I would be heartbroken too if it didn't turn out to be love for you. :)