New York is where the heart is.


after twenty weeks, one hundred and fifty days
here in this certain period of life,
i still find myself look up the phone
wishing i can just call you up
so we can just hang out and have our own fun 

you know, like we used to

sometimes it still feels like you are here
well, your name is still blinking here in my messenger window
but it is 12 hours apart
your day ends, while mine starts

i miss all the simplicity
i miss all the fun

but most of the time,
i just miss how you can always make me feel

New York is where the heart is.
There I can find my two favorite things
the city, and you.

and you are not even my Mr. Big.

*please excuse the grammatical error.
i was intoxicated.
you know, from the venom of the romantic bug bites i got this morning*

image taken from gettyimages.


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