a breakup letter to nyc

{inspired by this breakup letter to Los Angeles. Thanks Alyssa for directing me to that website! So much good stuff}

dear NYC,

I wanted to fall in love with you with every fiber of my being. I truly did. I longed to fall in love with you and your independence and wonderful boutiques and plays and nightlife and opportunities and every-man-out-there-for-himself and navigating the subway like it is no big deal and your skyscrapers and if you can make it here you can make it anywhere and street fashion and endless cuisine to explore. For a while there, I even thought I might be in love with you, but here's the harsh truth, New York: I loved the idea of you. I loved the idea of the person that I could be with you.

Here's how I really feel, New York, but don't worry - it hit me like a ton of bricks too.

I am always lonely when I'm with you. I feel isolated and sad. That independence that I always longed for? It's nice, sure, but I feel detached from everyone around me. In the hustle and bustle of the city, I am just one person among millions. I am small. I crave human connection, a sense of friendliness and community, and you just don't have it, New York.

you are gray, New York. I love color and beauty and vibrance, and sure, you are nice and majestic, but your palette brings me down, like a perpetual rainy day. Where is the rainbow after the storm? Does it exist?

you are dirty. I realize I may be biased because you just put me through a rodent infestation, New York (thanks for that!), but face it: you are dirty. And neat freak that I am, I just can't have it.

moving from one place to another? Nearly impossible. Traffic jams, subway track changes and delays, the inability to hail down a taxi...It's frustrating. I feel trapped and claustrophobic. And ironically, I have no issue with public transportation - in fact, I don't even drive - but having no freedom to just go has me gasping for air.

I live in a shoebox, and I am paying an arm and a leg for it - an arm and a leg that I cannot afford. I'm all for "roughing it," New York, but I could have a better standard of living elsewhere and pay much less for it.

I know I've only lived with you for months at a time. Perhaps if I stuck it out for a year or two I'd feel differently. I understand that, New York. But you know? I am not willing to sacrifice my happiness for a year or five or even one more minute so that I might someday find true love with you. I am just not.

this might not come as any consolation (of course not! After all, I am just one among millions. You will never remember me, New York, and that is reason enough for me to leave), but I will always love you, if only as a friend. I will come over and play sometimes after I leave in August. After all, there is no place like you.

xx