And everything is alright again, in one swift motion, or perhaps a pretty afternoon. I sat with an old friend on the balcony and looked around and realized that life is like this. It’s strange and terrifying and absolutely wonderful.
Last night, Emily and I watched a foreign movie and just talked about everything. It was comforting.
I went to sleep and slept well. Things still aren’t together, and that’s alright. It doesn’t have to happen today, or even tomorrow. It can happen whenever; it’s not going away.
I walked outside my building today and saw what looked like a large sign of garage sales. Families, selling nothing worth having, really. It was sad and thrilling at the same time. To know that three stories below me someone else is trying to make a life and is only hoping to succeed in supplementing their income is a sad thing, but strangely exciting at the same time. You don’t see that at home. It’s strange to be in such a different place culturally all the time without having to leave the city. It’s a cluster of different neighborhoods, different ethnicities, different mentalities, different values and ideals, but it’s home. It’s Chicago.