swarbles.

Funny as it might seem to say, my first crush was not on a human being. In the basement of my grandparents’ house there was a toy Manhattan island. It was very old, faded and made mostly of painted wood and, I guess, tin. I doubt I would’ve been allowed to play with it if anyone knew I’d found it. It had elevated trains that lit up when you plugged it in. I was in love with it. Then, my Dad moved to Manhattan. When I went there, it was like meeting someone you’d adored from afar in real life. People in my family used to joke that I loved the city, which embarrassed me. It actually made my cheeks turn red, because I didn’t exactly know what romantic love was all about, but i felt pretty certain that the city and I had a romantic relationship. I was quite devoted to it.