For someone that leaves bits of her heart every time she has to say goodbye, you might think the lifestyle I lead is masochistic.
It's always bittersweet. Every. single. time I have to say goodbye to my husband, I am sad. I always have something lined up, somewhere with a loved one that follows, so I am also excited and happy. Saying goodbye to Nicholas, inevitably leads me to saying hello to someone else that I hold close to my heart.
The pattern continues. I then have to say goodbye to my other loves and have slight heart ache, but also joy that soon I will see Nicholas again.
A repetitive cycle that has at least defined this past year, if not the last two.
This time, I leave Chicago and some of my very best friends and family to go to NYC. Not only am I leaving my near and dear, but I am leaving a city that I have adored since my high school runs in Wisconsin that brought us here Thanksgiving weekend and then repeatedly, zillions of times, to visit Tony and all of my friends. The city I always said I would eventually move to, but haven't done yet. The city that has held my heart time and time again. Not because it has everything in the world to offer at all hours of the day with millions of new friends waiting to be met. Nope, that's New York. But because it has it's own special magic.
Chicago is a bit gritty and a bit edgy with amazing food and a skyline that all cities can envy with a slower, cooler pace than it's brother to the East full of midwestern charm. Sometimes, I think it is more interesting than New York in the architecture and remnants of the past poking through the bridges, warehouses and pride. New York has gotten a bit mainstream.
I love Chicago and my people here. I will leave a piece of my heart when I board the plane this afternoon but I know I will find a piece of it when I land.