“And I start believing her when she says that the city’s gonna save her.”
-Parachute, White Dress
My heart and mind ache at the thought of moving to a city one day. To wake up looking out of a glass wall, with a view overlooking the chaos of the city streets and the stature of the buildings.
I long to observe the chaos from both the streets and above, documenting the people that I observe and encounter daily.
I want to be drowned out by the noise and the excitement, being especially welcoming in the excess around the holidays.
I imagine myself with the man that I love in a little apartment in either Brooklyn or Manhattan, me sipping coffee at our counter with my laptop in front of me and my hair up, as my husband stands shirtless with flannel pajama pants making us a home-cooked breakfast.
I want to wake up to a breathtaking view, every single day.
I picture myself falling in love more and more as I venture out on my own through the city streets, looking for the next story to share with the world and aiming to make the most of my life in the city.
I don’t see the city as my forever, but I do see it as my saving grace.
For now, that is.