When I go home now it's not the same. I don't like you as much as I did before, Brooklyn. You're not the same to me anymore. You don't hold the same magic since my memories of past years seem like a distance life lived by someone else now. I don't eagerly await the time to go back. I don't long for experiencing all of what the other Brooklynites experience day by day. I don't want to be there as much since he's not there anymore.
My Brooklyn was my family in Brooklyn. Everyone together and we're no longer our group of five plus. And I hate that. I truly, truly hate that. It makes me so upset and it won't ever be the same again. And I hate that too.
I'm trying to like my new future, I'm trying to like where I am but I can't see forward at all, and I just never saw it past this. How could I? How am I supposed to figure out what to do now without you to guide me? I can find my own path sure, but you're not there for me to tell you how I'm making my way along it. You're not going to be there for me to tell you how I get through the tough spots. I want to ask you how you got through the tough spots. I want to bounce ideas off of you and get your thoughts, I wanted to ask you why in the hell California has 4 basketball teams?!!
I wasn't done telling you everything I wanted to tell you about how I go about my day. I wanted to tell you so much more. I can tell you in my dreams I suppose or quiet times when I am reminded of something you said or a funny joke you made. But it's not the same and I hate having to settle for that. I hate that most of all. it isn't right and it isn't fair.
So I am dissatisfied with you Brooklyn. You haven't held up in my mind and you've lost a little bit of your sparkle. I'll miss you and think of you and still check to see how you're doing, Brooklyn. But you're a little less my Brooklyn.
