Love Letter to Brooklyn

Dear Brooklyn,

You popped my NYC borough-cherry and like a first lover, I'll always compare the ones who follow to you. Within your confines, I've found countless reasons to hate you, and even more reasons to indulge in you.

You've intrigued my small-town girl curiosity.

You've quenched my thirst for history and culture. You've instigated my obsession for food and fine wine. You've given me reason to get up early on Sundays, because the best unlimited mimosas and brunch is just around the corner. Because the farmer's market at Prospect Park ends at 1pm. Because there's always some kind of parade or block party or celebration going on. You tell me there is always something to see, something to do, something to experience, and never enough time to do it all.

You've never let me live a dull moment.

You've waited patiently for me as I sat atop your brownstone buildings and lusted after Manhattan. Without judgement, you embraced me after drunken brawls with her. And though you do not boast the always-alluring concrete jungle sophistication that my simple mind desires to wrap itself around, I continually seek refuge in you.

When my heart broke and all I did was mope, you mended it with your gentle wisdom. When I was reckless and destructive, you yielded me with tough love and reality. And though it's only been a year, Brooklyn, I feel like I've known you forever. You adopted me as your own, mothered me, nursed me back to health, and fueled my desire for more than materialistic goods and tangible items.

You've challenged me and pushed me out of my boundaries.

You've let me tread through your diverse neighborhoods, dance down your diverse streets, run through your lush greenery, and cry in your abandoned alleys. On a corner or between numbered streets, you always have some kind of new hole I can crawl into and hide away from the world. You've taught me that there is a difference between being cautious and being afraid. You've grounded me with the truths of reality. You've provided me with a remarkably familiar strangeness. You fascinate me, Brooklyn.

And most importantly, you've let me grow up.

So, Brooklyn, while I am here, let me venture my way through you. Continue to allow me to get lost, and possibly even stay lost in you. Let me continue to fall unadulteratedly in love with you. And for as long as I can stay, I will. Not because the rent in Manhattan is ridiculously priced, but because I am so absolutely, completely amazed by you. Every single day.

Love,
XM

In Front of the Bowery Station.

He was waiting for me when I arrived. He held me in a tight embrace before taking the grocery bags from my hands; my shoulders became light. I've always liked being around him.

We walked close together, his arm brushing against mine. I explained to him the reasons why we should stop seeing one another. I had shared my thoughts with him before, but I felt he was finally listening for the first time. What we did wasn't wrong, but it wasn't right either. We used one another.

"I feel empty, am full of self-loathing emotions, and in complete denial of who you are in my life," I said. The distance slowly widened between our bodies.

We stood on the stairs of Bowery Station. His demeanor had changed. Whatever he was feeling had depleted. Whatever he had wanted to say, he no longer wanted to share. He was uncomfortable, out of his element. I knew. I saw right through him.

I took him out of the friend zone and he denied me. I was hurt. Rejected.