New York, NY

It was nothing, it was just a picture. Just a snapshot of Houston street in muggy July weather and god that city was hot in the summer. How everything reeked of steaming garbage and every day was a battle between evaporating skin and freezing machines, and not even the nights were a cool refuge. A man on a bike, cars stalled, a piece of street art, there wasn't much to the picture. No matter.

Something about it reminded me that there is a New York still out there, not a figment of my imagination, but a real city, still vibrant, still alive with all the energy that makes New York what it is, that there are still people walking those streets as if nothing had changed; they will still bitch about it and never leave.

But something has changed. I am not there. Something about that picture reminded me that I am elsewhere, that the city is no longer mine. And tonight, at last, that breaks my heart.