As we age together, New York and I hold one another up when we fall down; we finish one another’s sentences.
When we have successes together, we celebrate in the wild forests of the park, along the carousel under the bridge, in the urban ocean, next to the little red lighthouse near the north point.
See also:
This is New York
We celebrate together, the city and me, as we protect and trust our relationship like no other. I arrived, looking to the city for answers, solitude, assignment, reward, punctuation to a sentence not yet written. The city, in turn, returned untempered possibilities.
The thing about long-term relationships is: you have to hold on.
