Living in New York is like being in an abusive realtionship. One moment you're bruised and battered and the next, well, you're sitting in New York's lap and he's stroking your hair, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
A weekend like the one just passed leaves me wondering how I could ever leave this city. The first snow, the over-whelming kindness of strangers, the convenience, the wonderful off-beat nature of life on this isle, it just leaves me feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.
What can I say? I love New York.
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1 comment:
When I come to New York, will you tell me where to go?
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