Dear New York City,
I have quite enjoyed our last several months together. Before I came here, I thought you were just an American city that had a ton of diversity. But I was very wrong. You are, in fact, an international city that happens to be claimed by America. You have no Wal-marts or King Soopers and have very few Christians. I walk everywhere, but I appreciate that it is on paved streets and not in the dirt. I like that I hear different languages daily, yet everyone understands when I speak. In you I spend my afternoons with the richest people I've ever known and then ride the subway home with beggars. I never expected you to present so many challenges. Although I spend 15 hours a week in classes and even more doing homework, you have taught me the most. You've taught me to only wear sweats in my apartment and that the world is more messed-up than I wanted to believe. At the same time, you've taught me to ignore the people around me and that people are always willing to give directions. Now I'm ready to end this learning curve. I would like a chance for a nice, big deap breath. In two weeks, I'll be looking up at mountains instead of the Empire State Building, sitting at a quiet coffee shop instead of walking to two or three before finding one with an empty seat, and walking up and down the ailes (with a cart!) of King Soopers instead of pushing through Trader Joe's in hope of finding the groceries I need. I'm really looking foward to it, but I know that in three weeks I'll probably be missing you. After I gulp air in Estes Park and get a chance to drive, I'll be ready to come back. So please don't get mad at me for wanting to leave really badly right now. Be waiting for me when I come running back ready to take you on again in January.
Your loving resident,