take me back, baby.

dear boston,
i wanted to wait a little while before talked again, but i just can't stop myself. it was wonderful to see you again last week. you looked...beautiful. your brownstones, your sunshine, your preppy new england children running through the common. you've aged beautifully, boston. and this time of year really suits you.

i had such a great time catching up with you, boston. i loved walking your cobblestone streets in beacon hill, and eating every carbohydrate in your city limits. i loved reminiscing about the lazy saturdays i would spend with you, boston. getting my deluca's sandwich, picking up the globe's crossword puzzle, and heading to my favorite bench in the public gardens to lay in the sun and listen to the different neighborhood dialects around me.

i thought i was in love with chicago, but boston, when i heard the dads in the garden this past week telling their kids "don't you check yoah sista like yoar zdeno chara, or else i'm going to put you down cella when we get back home and NOBODY gets any wahfle cones," i was hit with such emotion.

you can play it as cool as you want, boston. but i know you were glad to see me too. we get each other. there's no pretense. there's no need to be guarded. when i look you in the eye, boston, i'm telling you the truth with my entire heart. and that truth is this: i love you, boston.
i love your residents, your history, your architecture, your accents, your bars, your entire way of life. i want to be yours again, boston. i know it's a big commitment, but i'm ready for the 617 area code.

i know i said i wasn't ready. i know i'm in deep with chicago, and i made a promise to live my life in the midwest and not look back. but you can't do this to me, boston! you can't be the most wonderful place in the continental u.s. and expect me to stay away.

you have clam chowder in bread bowls, mike's pastries (i wasn't kidding earlier about eating all your carbs), HARPOON & SAM ON TAP AT EVERY RESTAURANT, and keith lockhart and his floppy hair. yeah, chicago's got hot dogs with pickles on them and rahm emanuel... but it's not even a competition. when you are in the presence of the right place, the place that makes your heart sing, you just know. and you're it, boston.

so what do you say, boston? i can't leave chicago without knowing you want me. but all it takes is one look from you. i saw that a potential dream job has just built a new headquarters with hopes to expand. is this you calling out to me, boston? i don't want to be naive, and i don't want to be impatient. but as soon as you ask me to come back, i'll be there. and i'll never leave you.

i'll wait for you, boston. as long as it takes.

yours, always
penny lane