She never made me a promise she couldn't keep. When I first approached her, she lightly slapped me away, and knew that I didn't even know how generous that was. I learned how to watch and pay attention, see how she breathed and how she moved, and for that she rewarded me. She didn't mature me, but she showed me how to grow myself up.

And now I leave Brooklyn. The next weeks are all about getting ready. People say you can always come back, but I don't allow myself that luxury. We've all seen it. You'll go, and you'll stay gone. The gutters and the asphalt and the iron will all move past you, you'll forget where the F and the Q diverge, and you will visit only in movies, misnaming rivers and streetscapes. Yeah, I'll be one of those.