New York City is my destination, it is my arrival gate, it is my love.  I have come from 5,000 miles away, from Hawaii to the Big Apple; from west of the West Coast to the East Coast; from a rock in the middle of the ocean to the center of the world.  I have stayed –thirteen years, yes [now twenty-nine]– but I have stayed a tourist, a visitor, and a fan.  NYC is the best of the best, the worst of the worst, and "the city so great they named it twice."  Hawaii is home, but NYC is life.

I've lost that tourist wide-eye-wide-mouth look, the naiveté of opening the entire subway map in the middle of Washington Square Park, and the tourist tendency to go shrieking across the street, trying to cross against the light like the natives.  However, I have maintained the spirit of a visitor to this grand place.  (See, only a tourist would use the word, "grand"!)  Keep an eye on me and you'll see that the non-smiling, disinterested, survival-mode exterior will give way to the tourist-face, the enthusiasm of a first-time explorer, and the dorkiness of an NYC groupie.

Put me anywhere where there's a view of the skyline and I still stare.  Place me in a bookstore and I still go to the NYC section.  Position me in the long line at the Empire State Building and I blend right in.  Plop me on a seat on the Circle Line ferry tour and my camera and I are happy.  I've done all of these things within the last six months, which is just a big no-no for native New Yorkers.

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I came here as a four-year student visitor and became a resident because NYC delivers on its promises.  I came here to change the world and change myself.  I came to belong, for here we all are: the freaks and the form-fitting, the mighty and the stumbling, the professionals and the non-profit souls.  We are all square pegs who find, here, our square slots to fit into.

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Now, before you purchase your plane ticket and come knocking on my overpriced one-bedroom apartment door, let me be sure to lay it out, for real: NYC's rainbow of diversity is its strength, but it is also its downfall.  With different definitions of morality, different languages of necessity, and clashes between those focused on individual progress and those who value community as the true source of power– this is no melting pot.  With enclaves, factions, rabid baseball rivalries, and everyday grudges– this is no paradise.  But, yes, there are rainbows.  Being that this city is real-world, real-people, and real-life, the diversity rainbow comes out only once in a while, under special circumstances: when rain meets sun, when two extremes meet on two inches of common ground ("Bipartisan bill?  Really?"), when horror meets heroism (September 11), and when disease meets healing (the 25-year A.I.D.S. crisis [now 40-year]).  But, believe me, when that rainbow does appear, it is noticed and it is appreciated... it is brilliant.

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There did come that dark point when I almost left.  All of a sudden, my home in the middle of the ocean seemed so very safe from planes crashing and buildings falling, so very far from fear and sheer sadness.  On September 11, we all became visitors, in a way, because we were seeing an entirely different city.  Even the air we breathed in and out was different.  We were different people who, all of a sudden, through tears, looked each other in the eye.  It is said, "If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere."  For me, there's now a subset of that: If I can make it through September 11, I can make it through anything here.  So, I've stayed.

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New York City is my destination, it is my arrival gate, it is my love.  It is my favorite channel, number one on my speed dial, my surprise party, my anti-depressant, the death of my spirit, the life of my recovery, my drug of choice, my soundtrack, and the reason I wear earplugs.