How can I possibly leave you? I've walked your streets and avenues lost, drunk, crying, even in labor.
You've given me so much. I fell in love walking your streets--hand-in-hand we walked in and out of bars-drunk on too many martinis and on each other.
It's fitting we got the call while we walked-this time not hand-in-hand; my hands on a stroller and his on an umbrella. In the rain, on the streets of New York our fate was sealed.
No longer will we walk these streets as New Yorkers, lugging groceries and in a rush but instead we'll be mere visitors murmuring "remember when."
NYC I heart you.
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