54. A Love Letter to New York
Dear New York,
I haven't known you very long, but I think what we have is special. I've only felt this way once before; I can see myself with you — not just in the moment, but in the future, too.
And I know you probably don't trust me, I told you the same thing years ago, but things were different then; I think I owe you an explanation. I didn't even love myself. You were too loud and too bright and you made my head spin. You held me in your embrace and I tasted metal. Sharp blades split my skin and I used to think you were throwing them, but I realize now that they came from inside myself. I bled on my sheets and on your streets and thought I was going to pass out. So I left, bitter and suffocating.
Years passed, and we didn't speak. I still resented you, and I'm sorry; it wasn't your fault. I fell in love with other cities, but the distance grew too much.
This past summer however, I felt like I was suffocating. Nothing was right. I felt empty, but somehow not hollow, it was like being filled wth pressurized air, my chest ready to burst. Nothing was bad per say, but nothing was good either. I missed you. I thought I'd rather feel people pressing against me on the sidewalk than my own four walls pushing in closer.
So I changed my clothes and my makeup and made the drive up to you. I walked around city blocks and looked up. You were hot, but I didn't sweat. I found myself somehow unable to choke out any English; I consumed by the foreign feeling of home, mother tongues everywhere. I was probably never going to see any of these people ever again and that made me love them even more. I wanted to paint with them, dance with them, inhale the smoke they breathed out of their chimney mouths.
You were dirty and loud, but you felt like my own. You wrapped me up in your embrace and finally I could breathe. You were supposed to be a weekend getaway, a summer fling, but somehow you consumed me. Months later, I lie in bed at night and think of you. I was ready years ago, but I'm ready now. I'm coming back for you, please leave a space in your heart for me.
Love always,
Mariam Qureshi
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