Oh New York, I love you. I can’t deny it, but deep down, I always knew my love you for you was immense, but I managed to hide it from myself, but you knew I never stopped. I know I left you, thinking I was going to somewhere more exciting, but I never really left. I’ve always come back for a long weekend here and there or for a week or two.
Our love affair spans over 20 years; you are definitely the longest thing I’ve ever loved – aside from my family, of course! I remember my first taste of being within your grasp, the few weeks before I began freshman year at NYU. I was in the city for a couple of weeks taking classes to get a glimpse of what the school year ahead had in store and I remember how intimidated I was. I was in my dorm room, scared to leave but eventually hunger won out and I walked about 5-10 blocks before I scurried back to my room because I was so overwhelmed by the bustle of the city and all the people I didn’t know and wouldn’t really ever know. 
But I started to get my rhythm. What once scared me soon became familiar and I was just another face among the crowd. I navigated your streets like a true New Yorker and god, I fell hook, line and sinker for you. I couldn’t get enough. I grew up quickly because of you. When you’re 18 and essentially alone in the city, you gotta grow up fast. You learn how to survive and you blossom as an individual. I was always independent, but damn, you made me super independent, maybe too independent. I learned how to be sassy; I grew a thicker skin and I loved the hustle and bustle of the city and how no one really gives two f*cks. But then, you kind of chewed me up and spat me out. The love began to wane and I started of dreaming of greener pastures. After all, it’s always a bittersweet love because you don’t even know my name. I’m just one of many.
Though I managed to escape your grasp, I never truly gave you up. I always kept coming back and I still keep coming back. But then again, why wouldn’t I? I broke up with you, sort of. It was always great to come back and visit for a bit and think, it’s over. I can do this. I don’t need you. But this time, I spent almost 4 weeks with you and you really pulled me back into your grasp. I don’t know how I’m going to leave. I don’t want to leave.
I’m in love with you all over again. Damn you!
But leave I must. I’ll be back though, you know I can’t stay away…
**Written the night before I left to go back to Singapore, I’ll have just landed in Singapore when this post is published**
