To most of my readership, this will not be news, but I am soon moving southwards, to the great Gateway to the Midwest. I've always thought of gateways as places or objects or metaphors to pass through, but never live inside of, and yet this is where my life seems to be pointing me. Hopefully this will not end as badly for me as it did for the Doorman, who spent his life in another such gateway. I am very excited to start my new life in St. Louis, where I will live in a lovely apartment with my best friend and play out the dream America has prescribed to every twenty-something in the country, which is to have a place of your own, have a "real job," and hopefully have adventures taken from sitcom scripts. And I have to tell you, as clichéd as these aspirations may be, I am truly looking forward to this move and I have never in my life found hand towels and toothbrush holders and shower curtains so infinitely interesting.
But there is one thing that's bittersweet about it all, and that's leaving Chicago. Deep down, I know that no matter where I live, Chicago will always be my town, my city, my home. It's not something you can take away from someone and I will certainly not let anyone do so either. I have fallen in love twice in my life and one of those times was with Chicago, and that is a love that has lasted. I can't tell you when it started, just that it exists. And I know that no matter where life takes me, I will always want to return to this city, because it's not the people or the places that I will miss, but the very essence of the city itself: its life force, for this is most certainly a city that is alive. I know now that no matter how much I will come to love St. Louis (and I will; it is the only city I have ever missed outside of Chicago), I will still be doing whatever I can to claw my way back to the Windy City. That's my goal now: to become successful enough that someday I can return to Chicago and live here, for real.
I have a massive collection of photographs taken in and of Chicago, and many of them are not the touristy pictures that most expect (though some of those exist, too). I am scrolling through the documents on my computer right now and thinking about how there is so much I need to say about this city, so much I want to express to anyone who has never visited it and more importantly, to the ones who have and never understood it as I understand it. I could write a novel on all the things I feel for this city, it would be my Love Letter. Maybe someday I will, just because I can. For now, I will settle for writing a few blogs that will not come close enough to touch the way I feel, but perhaps close enough to see waving it in the distance.
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