She stepped off the cramped and artifically cool plane and was immediately greeted by a burst of sour, thick New York air. Undeterred, she cut straight through the humidity towards the bus depot -- she had been hours delayed and she had lots catching up to do.
How many years had it been? Four? Five. It seemed like a lifetime, but in the span of ten minutes, after having navigated like a native city dweller through the teeming mass of fast-walking commuters and dwadling tourists, she felt strangely at home again. Five years couldn't have changed things all that much, she decided as she checked into her hotel nearly an hour later. She rode up the elevator with The Beatles and smiled as she hummed along.
A quick check with the local news channel told her there would be no reprieve from the triple-H (hazy, hot and humid) days during her visit and she cursed silently for having chosen that weekend to visit. She slipped on her walking shoes -- not sneakers, but something at least thick-soled as if not to appear touristy (heaven forbid!) -- and headed out to reacquaint herself with her long-lost love.There are places I'll remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All this places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all ...
Although most things were recognizable, it seemed that the city had been rearranged somehow. Sparkling new condos had sprung from where empty, weed-filled lots once sat in Chinatown, retail giants headquartered themselves in the smallest nooks in SoHo, and quickly-built scaffolding teetered in front of shiny new establishments to come. Desperate to find some familiarity, she ducked into her once-favorite restaurant for a comforting bite. Luckily, she was not disappointed and returned to the hotel after a long day a bit more relieved.
She awoke the next morning with what felt like an uneasy stomach. She knew better, of course. This was the day she would be seeing old ghosts, and despite her internal pep talks, she knew it was going to be a bit of a tough act.
Her phone rang incessantly that day, beginning with giddy calls from her girlfriends about where they ought to meet and how long it had been since she last spoke. She dreaded each new call, taking a deep breath before saying hello in the hopes of sounding carefree and casual.
What caused her nervousness, she wondered? Was she afraid that visiting old haunts would bring about some regret for having left in the first place? Don't get too attached, so warned herself as she glanced at the table where her return flight ticket lay.But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I love you more ...
At dinner she spoke calmly, even a bit mechanical, which helped to ease the gnawing sensation in her gut. She agreed to have a quick drink with her friends, a timed meet. Her friends were all busy with other commitments anyhow. A noisy location to cover up any potential awkwardness.
The drinks were bland and cold, but to her surprise the conversations warmed quickly. There was little mention of things past, and instead they all chatted about plans for the future. She soon forgot what it was that she was so nervous about. Somehow, knowing that life kept moving even while she was no longer in the picture was comforting.
After each friendly embrace, she knew that she would most likely only her friends again in emailed pictures or receive written updates and holiday cards. Perhaps one day they would lose touch entirely, and the memories of their time spent together would drift away. Surprisingly, it did not bother her as much as she feared. 
Her life, since moving away, had been blissful. She'd lost the attitudes she'd acquired living in the city. Her eyes were open and she found herself smiling at strangers and walking slowly down streets to admire her surroundings instead of looking down at her feet as she walked in a hurried fashion. She was comfortable being away from the city.
On the way back to her hotel, she passed by Grand Central and headed below level to the "whisper corners" in front of the oyster restaurant. She stood in one corner, making sure that no one was doing the same in any other corner, she whispered softly, "Goodbye, New York. I'll miss you," before gathering her things and returning to the hotel. It was nearly 2 a.m.
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I love you moreIn my life -- I love you more
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