Dear New York,

Hey, how are you? How’s it goin?
You been in any good movies recently?....
…Okay this is awkward, and not just because I’m writing a letter to a non-anthropomorphic entity. It’s because we’ve been through so much together and because I care about you so much that this is so hard to say. Or to write. Whatever. The thing is, I want to see other cities. And by “see other cities” I mean see one other city.
That isn’t you.
What I’m trying to say is...I want to break up. I’m just not so good with words okay? Which is just one of the many reasons I’m leaving you - You were always smarter than me. And you belittle me all the time and make me feel like I’m not good enough. And you make me angry. Oh boy do you make me angry. Just the other day you almost made me shove some old lady down the stairs because she was walking too slowly. Which probably had less to do with her actively trying to slow me down because she doesn’t understand that I have places, VERY IMPORTANT PLACES TO BE, and more to do with the fact that she was walking slowly because, well, she’s fucking old.

See, you you’ve turned me into someone I’m not. Someone I don’t like very much. Like, I swore I would never be one of those people who was defined by my relationship, but whenever I’m somewhere without you, you’re pretty much all I talk about. I’m sure I annoy people with how much I ramble on about you like you’re the only thing in my life worth talking about. Like you’re SO interesting. Like I’m SO much better than everyone else because I have a better city than they do. A city that is beautiful and charming and interesting and treats me well. But you know what? You’re not always as charming as you think you are, and honestly, you don’t treat me all that well. You rain on me, you hurt my feet, and you lie to me. Like when you claim there’s a sick passenger on your train, but really I know that you just don’t know how to fucking operate a simple mass-transit system. And not only can I not trust you, but you make me actively paranoid. Whenever any store clerk smiles at me or even acknowledges my existence I glance around everywhere, certain that I’m being punked. You’ve made me think that basic human decency is some sort of malicious prank. And yeah, sure, you inspired Annie Hall, and “Rhapsody in Blue”, and The Godfather, but, you know, you also inspired Small Time Crooks and The Real World: Brooklyn and the career of Ja Rule. So maybe you should stop thinking you’re all that. There are other fish in the sea okay? Other fruit on the tree. Other geographical locations on the map.

In fact, maybe this isn’t the best time to tell you this, but you’ll see the pictures on facebook eventually, so I might as well just tell you now. I’ve kind of been seeing someone else. Their name is Los Angeles. And it’s actually pretty serious. In fact I think we’re gonna move in together. Now, I don’t mean to hurt you. I really don’t. And I know you’d rather I rebounded with someone nice and unthreatening city like Chicago or Denver or Philadelphia, but this isn’t some rebound thing it’s pretty serious.

Now look, there’s no way any city will ever be able to hold a candle to you. You’re the best city I’ll ever be with, I understand that. But for all the wonderful things you have - unexpected adventures, wild nights out, a rooftop party with friends looking out over an amazing view - I know that these things rarely happen anymore. What once was fresh has gotten stale. And one night of passion a month isn’t enough to keep a relationship going. Sometimes no matter how much love you might feel for someone, circumstances, life, and reality get in the way. Things run their course.

Just today I was walking down the street, not paying any attention to anything as usual, annoyed with all the fucking tourists around when suddenly I looked up and I saw this building that a young man was taking a picture of. It was just a random building, nothing special at first glance, but then I looked at it harder and I saw it with different eyes. Younger eyes. And it took me back to a different time. The time when we first fell in love. When every building and every street and every moment felt so magical and alive. Walking around every day felt like a dream. The love I felt for you was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe this place was actually mine. Sometimes your beauty would literally stop me in my tracks. When you weren’t around all I wanted to do was be with you, and when you were around you automatically made everything better by the mere fact of your presence. Before I found you I felt so misunderstood, so alone, so incomplete, so out of place. But once I found the comfort of your arms I felt so alive, so at home. You understood me. You got what I was about. You saved my life. And I’ll be eternally grateful to you for that. But people grow and people change. And you start to see the cracks in the facade. The things you put on a pedestal become real and you have to deal with the reality instead of the fantasy.

And I looked at the man taking the picture of the building. This building that was old and interesting and utterly fascinating to this man. And I knew how he felt. I had been that person. I remembered what that was like. But that’s all it was - just a memory. Because I looked at that building and all I saw was a building. A building that was blocking my view of the sun.

And I thought, how could something that once was so powerful to me leave me feeling completely numb? How could something that was once so beautiful now simply be an annoyance? Is this how all love works? Does nothing last? Is lifelong monogamy valid or even possible? Is this why I never like to start things, because I know if I never start them then they never have to end?

Frankly all this thinking gave me a headache. And that’s why I’m moving to LA. Because they don’t have existential crises in LA. They don’t have much of anything really. Other than 3D movies about outer space. Well that and cocaine. Lots and lots of cocaine. Which is great because I hear it’s delicious. Also, I have no idea how cocaine works. But the point is LA is a simpler place. And I need somewhere simple after all the drama of you and me. I need somewhere where I can just lay around doing nothing all day. Somewhere I can stretch my legs and truly relax. Somewhere I can get Mexican food that’s not made by Asian people.

And don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll see you again. We’ll keep in touch. And I’m sure I’ll hear stories about you from friends. And, I’m not gonna lie, I’ll probably stalk you a little bit on the internet. But I know in the end, although I’ll always value what we had, we will be better off apart.

So don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll be just fine with my new love.

And I’m not too worried about you moving on either.

You always have been quite the heartbreaker.

Love always,
Andy