In which I still love New York.

I still love Manhattan. I miss it. I watch TV shows and movies I wouldn’t normally watch because they’re filmed there. I buy magazines I wouldn’t normally buy because they’re based there. I think about Manhattan while I’m in the shower. It’s like the worst crush I’ve ever had.

My husband won’t let me move there. Something about thinking his wife should live in the same state he does. The insensitive bastard. Can’t he see I’m pining away?
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