Our time together many years ago was brief but memorable. Strange as it may seem, since we didn't have much time together, I fell in love with you. Everything nifty and wonderful about you from Westminster Abbey to the celebrated Underground was as wonderful as promised and I found your rumored flaws--such as the supposed coldness of your citizens--to be exaggerated and often completely untrue. Nearly everyone I met was good-natured, kind, and unnervingly polite. The streets were clean, the shops fantastic, and I'll admit that while I tried to be cool on the outside, on the inside I was swooning.
Of course, I am not alone in my infatuation--you are one of the most beloved cities in the world, and rightly so. And of course, there are those in the world that hate beauty and liveliness and everything good and try to smash it out, usually with bombs and with some holy book justifying to them their hatred of everything worth living for. I don't know where this heart of darkness comes from, but it grows increasingly dark these days as the beauty-haters of different nations declare themselves "enemies" and while claiming to fight each other, instead oppress and kill those who still want to live lives worth living--those who profit off wars, those who strap bombs on themselves and walk amongst civilians, those who squelch love in the name of tradition here while pointing fingers at those who do it in the name of tradition there.
London, I am reminded of a line put in the mouth of a dying character in a play written by one of your most celebrated residents: "A plague o' both your houses!"
Romeo lashed out and ended up killing himself and the light of his life because of it. London, you have been around a lot longer than a 15-year-old newlywed, and you have the battle scars to prove it. The news is that your residents have already begun to pull themselves together and persevere in the manner that they no doubt view as their birthright. It's just one more reason I love you, albeit from afar--I don't love you for cheap reasons, for coltish, awkward youthfulness but instead for maturity, for your aged beauty.
I know my words mean little in the cachophany of love aimed at you, and rightfully so. But still, after seeing such needless hate and violence, I offer, alongside millions of others throughout the world my love in hopes that it will help you do what needs to be done to carry on, as you've always done before. Thanks for everything you've given and continue to give your admirers--we love you today from afar, but please know we always loved you before.
Shamelessly stolen from here