Here we are again, lying on the ground in the center of Times Square. We stare up at the lights circling above our heads, the illumination of flashing images flushing our cheeks with resplendent color. Footsteps trace the silhouette of our bodies on the asphalt as people walk around us, immersed in the wonder of the city. We marvel at their faces as they pass by, each filled with the same awestruck sensation that we have experienced time and time again. It’s a comforting peace, this unquiet murmur of a million hearts. It’s a resounding thunder that spreads through the city, beating to the rhythm of the perpetual golden hands in Grand Central Station. The marquees light up with your name, and it’s all I can see, the outline of those letters glowing warmly in the fading twilight. They tell a story that has been around since the dawn of the earth, but for some reason, its beauty still overwhelms me every time. An electric current travels through me, flowing from my hand into yours, curling up your spine, and finding a home in the niche between your neck and shoulder. Maybe here is where we will find what we have been searching for all along.