New York City. Full of hope and promise, teeming with creativity and energy. My city, my lover, my safe haven, my home. Until one day, the city that nurtured me began to turn on me. Every rooftop, every park, every subway stop, every corner I turned was a snapshot of a previous life. The time had come to move on and find a new mountain top.
New York was the dream. Leaving it was like saying goodbye to an old love … and in a way, it was. This was where we grew up together. The city molded us and made us who we are today — who we really are. The days started to go by faster. The closer I was to leaving, the more I wanted to stay. New York captivated me, like a lover seducing me to stay the night … stay a little longer … stay.
The big city started to feel small, suffocating. Visions of a life I no longer knew have become too much to handle. Too many questions. New York was filled with ghosts. I had known this day would come. It was heartbreaking. But the only thing that was worse than leaving, was staying.
New York had never looked more beautiful than the day I said goodbye.
One day, when I find myself again, I will find my way back home.