source: ruslanpelykh

-a guest post by D-

I hate the city. It’s loud, rude, and filled with foul air and bright lights where they aren’t necessary. And today, I spent an entire day in Manhattan, which was a living nightmare for a cranky guy like me.

Every time I went anywhere, I began thinking about her.

At Broadway, I thought to myself while watching Mamma Mia that if she were here with me, the same decades-old plot would suddenly become more amusing.

At dinner, I would have been more than happy eating outside next from a sketchy food truck as long as she was there to complain about the awful food with me.

On 6th Avenue, she would have made all those zeroes on the price tags feel like nothing more than pocket change if I could make her happy by buying it for her.

In Central Park, I would have followed her onto the playground set, with little care for the fact that we would have been (quite literally) waist-deep in toddlers.

And at Times Square, I envisioned her hand wrapping around mine to make sure we wouldn’t lose each other in the sea of people surrounding us, her warmth insulating me from a cold city filled with cold people.