I have been fortunate enough to travel to many places throughout the world, and while I have fallen in love with the streets of Italy, the cafes of France and the views of Spain, New York City will always have my heart. No matter where I travel, no matter how long I am gone, I will always be back, New York.
I think I love New York City because I identify with it so much. I identify with its hustle, with its easy-to-get-lost-in crowds, with its people, with its heart, with its drive. I see bits of myself and bits of people I know in everyone on the subway and everyone shoving past me on the city streets. My grandmother's face is in the 60-year-old woman ringing her hands on the subway. My ex-lover can be smelt on a whiff of passing perfume. My sister is in the fellow student whose hand shot up first to answer the question. I am in all of them; they are in all of me.
I love the understanding we all have with each other. As a New Yorker, if you travel to anywhere else in the world, you are easily identifiable. "You're not from here, are you?" We believe in ordering a sandwich and getting it in five minutes, not 20. We believe in power-walking. We may not strike up a conversation with you before our morning coffee. But in New York City, that's all OK. We are all just getting to where we are going. We all have the understanding on our faces. We are not unfriendly, rude or difficult. We just understand each other. I know the man next to me had a long day by the look on his face and the stress he wears on his shoulders; I know to give him a smile, rather than to strike up a conversation. I know the girl crying on the subway appreciated the tissue I handed her, rather than my asking if everything was OK. I know the feeling of holding your emotions in your throat; I know that, "are you OK?" can open additional flood gates. I know the homeless girl, whose eyes I see in mine, appreciated me smiling at her, and telling her to "keep up the good fight" as I handed her a sandwich. You pick and choose who you affect and how you affect them. We all have this understanding; we wear it on our sleeves.
New York, I love you because you love me. I love how you give me ground to stand on, a community to belong to and a place to always come home to. No matter where I go, I will always come back to you. I know you will be waiting with open arms and my morning coffee.
