A Love Letter to New York City

Exactly 365 days ago, I white-knuckled the broken handles of two 50-pound suitcases (of shoes) and waved goodbye to the familiar skyline of Chicago, boarding a one-way, non-refundable flight to New York (holy shit) City.


At the moment, I’m on a red-eye flight home from San Francisco. (I’m always airborn, apparently.) It’s 1:13 a.m. and I’m drinking red wine, pouring my heart into a long-winded love letter…

I’m oddly struck by how easy the words come.

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