New York. It wants me. It longs for me, has for some time now. It has been seducing me with its intensity, its charm, its poetic fervor. Apocalyptic buildings and menstruum of narcissism. Oh New York. You are such a cad. How did you know I would come back? I thought I was finished with your icy stares, your warm surprises. I thought we were through. And yet, this affair presents itself once again. I am going to be with you. Risking poverty and comfort, because I have always loved you. I did in high school and was afraid. Again in college. Too scared to break up with Colorado. Easy Colorado, so sunny and bright. But I don't get wet in that mountainous state. I need an island city for that.
Dublin almost did it. There was a man there - Ireland man. He held my heart for a while, so that the green country, wrapped in mist would be my object of pining. A year passed and New York, your stable chaos waited. You are a patient and tenacious place. Extreme cool, extreme autonomy, extreme diversity. You are the hero of my story right now. Will you break my heart? We'll find out.
You, New York, incubator of ideas and edges, you keep calling. What will you do with me? Have I become strong enough for you these past few years. Am I resilient enough to bear the force of crashing dreams? Dreams that, like the ocean wrapped around you, swell and crash with reassuring predictability. I find comfort in your brutal honesty. I exist alongside your furious temper, your open arms. What was it about the land where you have grown that called such a clever city? What demanded I return for a hearty period?
So I will confess my current position. I will speak it to my camera and pull it together in time for you to really know what you're getting in to. Because New York, I am a force to be reckoned with. I am a powerful woman, wrought with inspiration, tormented by addiction, excited about life. I am not a faithful lover in the tradition sense. I cannot promise monogamy. I will have affairs with other cities. I can't help but fall in love with the warm romance of Latin countries, the dusty magic of an unsanitary meat market, the Spanish idiom, or Portuguese. But you call me nonetheless. I have until this point resisted your flirtations. Now I am giving in, surrendering my body to your dirty streets and perfect sunsets. New York, for now, I'm yours.
