Then it happened; he stopped struggling beneath the weight of it all and the flood gates opened, and the true weight of reality poured in him. He cried, he cried like he only cried when the floods came, and she took him into her arms and she kept them there. She stroked his hair and said nothing and let him sob. He fell asleep in her chest and he loved her for it.
New York, New York City will not take my soul.
(Repeat x100 daily until fortified)
You survived by seizing every tiny drop of love you could find anywhere, and milking it, relishing it, for all it was worth. And as you grew up, you sought love, anywhere you could find it, whether it was a teacher or a coach or a friend or a friend’s parents. You sought those tiny droplets of love, basking in them when you found them. They sustained you. For all these years, you’ve lived under the illusion that somehow, you made it because you were tough enough to overpower the abuse, the hatred, the hard knocks of life. But really you made it because love is so powerful that tiny little doses of it are enough to overcome the pain of the worst things life can dish out. Toughness was a faulty coping mechanism you devised to get by. But, in reality, it has been your ability to never give up, to keep seeking love, and your resourcefulness to make that love last long enough to sustain you. That is what has gotten you by.
While we are waiting for the messiah, while we are waiting for Mahavir…your eyes will suffice to give tired men hope.
-New York, I Love You
Therapist: What comes to you most naturally?
Me: Messing up everything. And sex.