dear seattle, part fourteen

It is with some regret that I write you this Dear John letter from a post-war city that was never in a war. I believe that these things, if not done in person, should at least be done before a person initiates separation. My bad.

We've had a good run, Seattle. I like you. I like you for your coffee, your love of all things indie, and your wonderfully blustery autumns. And you know I like autumn best.

I have had more emotions tied with you than I have ever had with any other city. You've taught me a lot these past few years. And that one time I thought you made me kill a butterfly only to find it taking flight from my bumper at the next intersection... wow. You really had me.

I've thought about this letter a lot. I've written it months before I left you, when the bitterness of our relationship was at an all time high; when I was visiting another city and the nostalgia set in for your passive kindness; when I was on an airplane missing the lovelies that live within you... but now, now I am not quite sure what to say other than I know there are parts of you that I will always miss- Parts of you that will remain in my bloodstream for quite some time.

I will always love it when it rains more than a mist. I will always turn my nose up at other cities coffee. I will always think of Pioneer Square and Sunday Sunday Sunday when I see a rug store.

For these things, I thank you. I won't say that you're better off without me, because we both know that you're not. You'll miss me, Seattle. I know, I know.. it's egotistical to say (I won't pretend it's not), but... *shrug*

Good luck, Seattle. We'll come across each other again some day.

much love,
your ex-preschool teaching, coffee making, library loving, greenlake walking, quarreling friend