The first time I visited New York City was in 2016. I was there with my then boyfriend’s family and I still remember how I felt standing in the middle of Times Square, with billboards at every corner, and people – gosh, so many people. A sensory overload, but not in a bad way. It was pleasant and almost intoxicating. 

We were 22. It was our final year of college and a world of opportunities awaited us. We talked about someday coming back to the land of the free, to live in the suburbs and by a stroke of luck, publish that book that I always talked about. New York City, then, held my hopes and dreams. 

The second time I visited New York City was in 2022. I had planned a honeymoon with my then fiancé and New York City was one of our pit stops. We were going to meet our friends for a weeklong music festival in the heart of Manhattan. The wedding didn’t happen. And neither did the trip, but we decided to go for the festival with our own group of friends anyway.

We met for a meal, though – last one for the road? It turned out awkwardly amicable and I remember crying all the way back to my Airbnb, thinking that the best part about New York City was that no one really cared. I wasn’t sober for the rest of the trip, but I remember it being one of the best and worst memories of my life. I lost a lifelong partner, but I gained lifelong friends. New York City, then, held my pain. 

The third time I visited New York City was in 2023. It was the evening of Christmas and the streets were quiet. After walking around for close to thirty minutes, we found an Izakaya by the corner of a street along Madison Avenue that was open for business. I had the best lobster skewer ever and the cocktails blew our minds. 

It was a cold day, but my heart was warm. And so were my hands that found refuge in my significant other’s. New York City, then, brought me comfort and the assurance that I will be okay. 

It’s my fourth time in New York City and it’s pouring today. I called the cruise company to check if the sunset cruise I had booked was still on. They said, “Of course! We sail, rain or shine.”

I took a walk around Midtown Manhattan with my red umbrella. Joggers were still running with their hoods up. Yellow cabs were still eagerly waiting for passengers by the road. Tourists were still clicking away on their cameras. 

In New York City, the show goes on whether rain or shine. “As will I,” I whispered to myself.