Dear New York,
You know me by now. And I love you. I've been faithful in my heart and always found my way home. I've wandered and discovered new cities and even considered being part time, but in the end, no place defines me the way you do.
So I ask you, why oh why has it been so hard to find a good man. A counterpart to my sweetness and someone to stoke the embers of my fire, as well as, add the needed wood to burn.
Have I done something wrong? Have I been too selfish and been blind? Or has the time not come, yet?
A new chapter is about to start, and I am asking with an open heart and mind...
Is there someone you might think is out there, looking for a new reality, open and humble, worn a bit, like a good book that's been loved. Someone with some lines that mark the time he has spend enjoying the sun and sprinkles of grey he wears with pride. A man who knows who he wants to be and is willing to put in the effort to get there with someone? Am I asking too much?
You are my constant. You define me in ways that reflect what is in my heart and vision of the world. Sure I know you're not perfect, but you are the best. I've been told when one lives here, that they are essentially married to you. You first. But I've seen other versions of the New York story.
What do you say? Gimme a little break next time?
With all due respect, yours forever!
Su-Jung
From the mobile office
Note: Please consider any absurd errors as my little machine's Automatic Dada Poetry.
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