Musings: Manhattan from the Sky



"You're My Manhattan from the Sky" 
That song has been on loop for quite some time now. And as I listen 
Rather carefully to the words being sung 
I realize, that the sixteen year old girl would have smiled at me 
And thanked me. 
For finally letting you know that to her, 
You were the Manhattan from the sky. 
She loved you more than you'd ever know. Or I believe I'm capable of ever loving someone ever again. 
She held on to that love, even though it was never returned, and she drew happiness and joy from it, 
And a strength that knew no bounds 
That her future self learned to love again. 
The thing is: you never forget your first love. You can put out the flames but the fire somehow remains. 
So every once in a while, I do think about you. 
And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind. I guess not. 
It's not your fault either. You didn't know. 
How could you any way? Because she was in love with a boy she'd never said a word to. 
When you're sixteen conversations don't really matter I suppose. 
You're still her Manhattan from the sky. Because you look so neat and tidy when she's soaring up high. 
I wonder now at times if I'll ever meet a boy who'll make me feel that way again. 
That the mere sight of him will set my heart racing, that my cheeks will get all hot and flushed. That they'll be butterflies in my tummy and I'd be a little dazed if he even said "hello" to me. 
That feeling is amazing. When love can knock you off your feet. 
But you're nothing but her Manhattan from the sky. 
And she needs someone who would be okay with wandering the mess of grey skyscrapers with her. 
You can go on looking perfect when she's watching you from way up high. 
Because the closer she gets, that sixteen year old girl, who held a torch for you for so, so long... 
I'll break her heart. Not you. 
She's been through enough. 
So please just be
Her 
Manhattan from the Sky.


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