When I tell stories to my grandchildren, I'll have to say that Buffalo was my first love - it could be Mike Nelson, my first kindergarten crush - But I think it will probably be Buffalo.
Most of my friends say I'm crazy.
"It'll never work with you and B.Lo," they say, ignoring my contempt of their snarky nickname for my city. "You're from different sides of the track."
And maybe we are, but over the last five years, Buffalo and I have matured. We've grown up together.
I didn't always love Buffalo. I started out dealing with this place. Tolerating it. In truth, I spent a good part of my freshman year pining over my ex, Syracuse, and I don't think it was until my junior year that my feelings for this city solidified.
But here's what I've learned - if nothing else - in the last five years at UB: love sneaks up on you.
I was intrigued by Buffalo's bars to begin with. I mean seriously, Syracuse's bars wouldn't give me a second glance. Maybe it was the haziness that came with the underage alcohol, but after a few beers at P.J.'s my freshman year, Buffalo wasn't looking half bad. But then again, I was 17. I was young. What did I know?
I tried to push it out of my head, but couple of trips to the Albright-Knox and a discovery of Spot coffee later, I had a pretty serious crush going.
Buffalo was cool. It was worldly and experienced, and while some girls will tell you size doesn't matter, Buffalo seemed huge by comparison to anything else I'd seen.
When I was 19, my eye started wandering to other cities. Well, to be honest, to other countries. Canada seemed so hot and flashy, but my infatuation with Clifton Hill faded as quickly as it began.
By age 20, Buffalo and I had gotten pretty serious, and taking time to visit my parents' house seemed like a chore.
It was that summer that I fell in love with the way the city gathers on Thursdays after a hard day's work, with tired eyes but smiles on their faces. Thursday in the Square - which draws hundreds of college kids, business people and families to Niagara Square regardless of the act - is more than a concert series. It's comradery.
And there's nothing sweeter than the University Heights in the summer - hot enough to make you sweat but cooled with a light breeze that carries whiffs of charcoal barbeque from one house to the next. At night, the loud din of music from the Main Street bars and the screeching tire wheels let me know that this was home.
Soon I was finding more reasons daily to love this place.
Like the way the tiny shops that line Elmwood Avenue are not just independent but instead are fiercely fused to the city of Buffalo. Or the way that Buffalo shows me something new in music and art at every turn. Or the way this city finds a reason to celebrate just about everything - from Italian Americans to its famous chicken wings and everything in between.
Above all, I love that Buffalo is an honest town, full of people who don't have pretension. The bulk of Buffalo's people are working-class, and they're proud of it. This city doesn't pretend to be something that it's not.
For those of you how don't know Buffalo yet, introduce yourselves to the place I've grown to adore. Take a trip to Allentown or opt for a local restaurant instead of a chain. It may be a little rough around the edges, but give it a chance.
As for us, Buffalo and I are going to try for a long distance relationship after I graduate. I'm going to visit. Buffalo will probably get jealous, because I'm thinking of taking off for Los Angeles.
But I think we both know that my heart will always be here.
