I left New York City more than 8 years ago to live in London, and I still don’t think I’m over it. The city is like a lover I can never forget.
Sometimes it drove me mad, or made me depressed. Sometimes I vowed to leave. I did do that once – relocating to Paris, which I had adored from afar since I was a teenager. About a year later I had to return to NYC for mundane reasons (sort out my sublet apartment, attend a family wedding, etc) but I vowed I would be back walking along the Champs Elysees within six months. I didn’t leave New York for 4 years.
The feverish pace sweeps you up, the shiny glamour seduces you, the grit rubs up against your skin. You’re never in doubt that you are at the center of “it” – whatever “it” it is that you want. I can’t help it. I want to be a part of it.
Mindrelic – Manhattan in motion from Mindrelic on Vimeo.
(Photo: Kaysha via Flickr)
I’ve only been to New York twice, which isn’t nearly enough, but both times I loved it and thought “I could love living here”. Sometimes I want to have several lives, and if I could, one of them would definitely have large chunks of it in New York.