New York will always be home.

I was born there.

Raised there.

Went to school there.

Many schools.

Elementary. Junior High. High School.

College. Undergrad. Graduate school.

I worked. For years.

I interned.

I took continuing education classes.

American Sign Language.

Spanish.

I interviewed.

Found jobs.

Turned down jobs.

I wandered the streets.

Ate lunch in the park. Many parks.

I met up with friends.

For lunch, halfway between offices.

At great restaurants.

On park benches.

For many happy hours.

Cigarette breaks in back rooms.

On curbs outside of office buildings.

In cafeterias.

Smoke breaks when I didn't even smoke.

Walks around the building.

Fresh air near the water.

Coffee breaks.

Sneaking off to the movies.

Extra long lunches.

Playing pool during overtime.

Flirting with the bartender.

Stumbling to the train.

Hailed cabs late at night.

Calling for a car.

Cried tears of love lost.

Wandering through neighborhoods with a broken heart.

Holding my husband's hand before I really knew.

First kisses. Stolen. Quietly.

Broadway shows.

French restaurants.

Gloves lost on snowy nights.

Diners after midnight.

Shots at the bar.

Sparks flying.

I got married there.

First engaged.

Central Park.

The zoo.

The polar bears.

We got married.

Moved around the boroughs.

Found our way.

Found our fur-babies.

Years later - I left.

We left.

Came home for visits.

Met my niece.

Returned home with a baby girl.

Introduced her to a place like no other.

Years later - I returned again.

Said goodbye to my father.

A piece of my heart, gone forever.

New York is home.

Always will be.

Today I choose to remember the moments that I will never forget, beyond those imprinted in my brain forever. Beyond those that the entire world watched with me.

These moments find me happy, sad, aching, longing, loving.

In some ways they're similar to those that occurred so so many years ago tomorrow.

And in many ways they're not.

I try to forget the smoke. The tumbling. The walking mile after mile.

My shoes.

Scrambling for phone calls.

The tears.

The forever change in my view.

Instead I recall the moments of MY New York.

And I remember. And I pray.

Because in my heart of hearts I know.

New York will always be home.

* Linking up with Pour Your Heart Out today over at Things I Can't Say. *

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