I love this city, I hate it sometimes, too. In an effort to keep track of my feelings about the Big Apple during my time here I try my best to chronicle them in a letter to this crazy place. Welcome to Dear New York–a series posted monthly on the anniversary of the date I moved here.
All I needed is a sign, God.
Just a sign.
I plead with God daily about many things. But mostly, just for a sign. That this is the right direction. That this is where He would have me go.
My brother’s girlfriend called me a bougie b*tch.
“There is a lot of beauty in this city,” Allan said. “As you know, and now, I think you’re getting to see the,” he paused, “coldness of this place.”
I have a favorite train conductor.
He’s usual on an older 6 train. The ones that are typically annoying during rush hour. They’re smaller than the newer ones and the spacing is weird so everyone ends up crowding by the door, which makes it hard for people to get on or off, holding up the train from leaving the station.