Paris. London. Dublin. Home.

I want to go to these places so desperately. I yearn to see the lights and cobblestone streets of Paris. The electric life that runs through it’s people. I want to sit in a Cafe every morning and just write; about all of the beauty surrounding me. I would love so much to feel the frost of London in winter. Feel the cold tingling the tip of my nose. Drink warm tea in a tiny shop. Discover the beautiful literature and history that lies within the city. I want to be comforted in Dublin. Go to a place where I feel so welcomed and secure. Watch a football game in a pub. Take a walk on a muddy road with cloudy skies, hearing the steps of my rain boots hitting the soft ground.

All of these places, I have yet to visit, are calling me. But where I truly desire to go is home. Not Mississippi. Not where I was born. But my true home, where I feel most like myself. Seattle. Gosh, I miss that town so much. There is nothing like waking up to a cloudy morning, walking downhill to the coffee shop and doing the homework you were supposed to do last night while drinking nice hot coffee. I guess I just love Seattle so much because there is a simple beauty about it. A beauty that wasn’t built with fancy lights and buildings, but a beauty that was built by the people. Their uniqueness and open-minded personalities make it a place that many, including me, wouldn’t think twice to call home. I love that crowded, rainy, cold town. And it loves me back.