I will miss you but not really. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your beauty, I do, as I appreciate the beauty of any large city with distinct personality. But you have robbed me, of over $500 of American money, money that I will never see again, over half of the money that it would have cost me to do the very same things in a city that is known to be expensive - like say New York. You have asked me to spend more money than I ever imagined I would. In one weeks time you wanted me to give and give, while all you could do was take. Yes, you are selfish, but nobody ever said you would be otherwise.
I’ve wanted to ask you something for a very long time but I don’t know how to say this without sounding desperate, so I will just ask you anyway. Will you miss me London? Will you miss the way I walk through your streets, like a lost puppy dog, utterly confused because there is no rhyme or reason to how your city is constructed? Will you miss the nights I spent watching your people perform on the streets or the days I spent looking at your shops and museums and drinking at your pubs? Will you even know that I am gone?
I doubt it, but I am going today London. Leaving you within a matter of hours. I know, you’re too busy with the likes of a million other people just like me, okay not really just like me, but enough other people that my trip here will remain insiginificant to you. And while that hurts, I understand, you never told me to expect anything more. You never showered me with false promises, never told me that you would be something you weren’t. I appreciate that about you.
But I hated the way you shut down at night. Always too early, you’d turn off and completely ignore me until daybreak. I hated that by midnight I had nowhere to turn, how you completely gave me the cold shoulder, asked me to turn down the TV and go to bed. I hated how cold you could be, how unexpectedly frigid and how you could go from dry to wet in a matter of seconds. I guess what I’m trying to say, is while I’ve enjoyed your company, I find you to be a moody bitch and I look forward to leaving for a while. Yes, I will be back, as fate would have it, I am going to leave for other places through one of your ports. And I hope that next time we meet, next time I lay my soft, delicate hands on your cold, hard body, you will be more receptive, more open to showing me a good time.
Maybe next time, we will have a bit more fun, not that this wasn’t. I just want to have one of those nights I will never forget with you London. That is all I am asking.