Dear New York,
I am sorry. I love you very much but I’m not in love with you anymore.
Maybe it’s this long, cold winter or the fact that I had an aneurysm looking at my not paltry bonus and seeing only HALF of it credited to my bank account.
Or maybe it’s because I’m not 20 anymore and have wised up to your seductions.
It’s my fault really; I had unrealistic expectations of us. I had our happy ending all planned out but realities got in the way.
You are a culturally and historically poorer cousin of Europe and a culinary graveyard for my palette (hello hawker / street food of Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Taiwan, etc.).
I am ready to leave, head home; even if I don’t really know where home is. I am ready for another adventure, this time some place warm and with better Asian food!
New York, it’s not you. It’s me.
Used to love you,
(The truth is we are going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future sigh!)