Bi-Coastal Dreams

by Jymm Gifford

I fantasize, romanticize, reminisce on nostalgic terms. She's the Q, the Brooklyn Bridge, and Christopher street. She's October Saturdays and Coney Island summers. She's everything I wanted.

I have conveniently forgotten February, and her tendency toward meanness.

I begin to wonder why I ever left her at all. My regret could fill oceans, and I am swept into a sea of what-ifs. "We could have made it work" my wistful hear whispers "you could have tried a little harder."

But I wake up in California, where it never rains, and the people are nice, and I've got this new life. And I know I'll never go back, that it would never work, that she'd never live up to my sweet imagination.

Come tonight, though, I'll be dreamin' of New York.