I walked to work and felt rather reflective today. Some days I pay little attention to the Sears Tower. Other days I stare in awe, whisper to myself, I can’t believe I live here.
The novelty of it all has yet to wear off, still, two years later. Who knew that you could ever fall in love with a city? Who knew that I would fall in love with this city?
Last year, Mori and I were driving around the Chicago. We wound up on a dead end street somewhere near an old steel dump. Mobs of homeless men and women had filled grocery carts to the rim with scrap metal that they had found in the alley ways of the grimy Chicago streets. We parked the car for a moment and briefly watched as the road became a traffic jam with loaded grocery carts and the filth covered bums who would come to the area to exchange steel for a small amount of cash. Our attention moved quickly to the sidewalk where two men hoisted up a large bottle of dark syrup, some kind of rum, and poured it down a woman’s throat. The image was too spectacular for words. The look on her face, her head held high, and her arms outstretched to grasp the bottle; I can only compare it to a dehydrated child in desperate need for thirst. Mori and I looked at each other and wished one of us had a camera. It was one of the most beautiful images I have ever seen in my life. That will stay implanted in my memory forever.
And while that image will become burned in my brain, another moment from last year will become entrenched in my emotions. I remember what I was wearing, down the pink underwear I had on that night. I remember what drink I had in my hand. I remember every step I took. I remember how I parted my hair. I remember nearly every word that came out of everyone’s mouth that night. I remember where I stood and how I stood. If there was a night that you can be in love with, this is it. It’s not very often that people get to meet someone they adore. It’s not very often that the voice you hear on that repetitious song you play over and over, stands next to you and buys you a drink. It’s not very often that you get to hang out with someone whose lyrics can make you drop to your knees. Meeting Andrew McMahon, was one of the best moments of my life. Hands down.
Last year was full of new experiences. I have never lived with a girl before. I have never had a female roomie, but when Mori moved back to Chicago I was happy to take her in. It was probably one of the best series of months in my life. So many weird, awkward, and fun times that we decided we could write a comedy series based upon it. Two border line opposite personalities: Mori with her empathetic heart, and me with my soulless little heart; Mori and her creative mind, and me a little too logical; Mori a homebody, and me who needs to be social…. My apartment was never the same after she left it for her own apartment… a block away.
Last year, was good moment, after good moment, after incredibly good moment… but it also came with heart break. Losing my Uncle was an unexpected tragedy. Staying in a job that I was unhappy in, and then eventually losing it, destroyed my self esteem, all of it. These were the lowest points. These low points gave me a new perspective, and ushered in some positive changes.
Out of all the things I have learned last year, this one thing has stuck with me the most: “you get out what you put in”. I have heard this quote a million times, but have never applied it to myself. Life is a mirror.
Chicago, you are my reflection. You have been hard on me at times, but have loved me more often than I can count.
I am unequivocally and unconditionally in love with you, as long as you don’t boot my car again.
