New York City, my sweet friends, is like the boy you will never fall out of love with. No matter how much it disappoints you, angers you, forgets you. It's the lover who makes you unpredictably ecstatic one moment and inexplicably angry the next. The relationship that you know will not work, which is the same reason why you want it to work so hard. Why you try so hard. You do everything so any thing can change. You give it stars and space. Kisses and practicality. You forgive it for being so vast; so cold. It, you console yourself, simply has incredibly high expectations and wants you to be your best self. So you try harder. Give it more of yourself. Because you know, no matter what they say, that you are truly in love. Which is why you forgive it its huge flaws; perfection's overrated anyway. Why you laugh when a fight unfolds in the crowded subway. Why you speak to the skyline from inside a cab before the dark adventures of a night out begin: "Hello my City."
Why you wake up each morning and say Tomorrow is a new day.
You say tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.