My Lover, My Friend

Once I was lucky enough to live in New Orleans. I visit the city often as I can, and this weekend I was finally able to put into words what I have long known.

New Orleans is an entity; some cities have a soul. Those that do look you over, deciding if it likes you, if you belong. If it does, it will find ways for you to stay. If you need a job, someone has a friend who needs help. Place to stay? Suddenly there is a room available.

Whether she likes you or not, New Orleans has a way of sinking her hooks in you. She latches onto your soul and becomes an ache, a yearning for her. Are you a Tourist? Fine, you get home and within a week you are planning that next trip. Each time you visit, it’s a little harder to leave.

Oh! You lived there, got to know her a little, and had to move? How many nights do you dream of her? If she likes you her siren call is strong.

If you fell in love with her you search the job pages, maybe you’ll find one. Maybe you wonder if you dare step out to live on that edge.

We flirted this weekend. I think she likes me.

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