Love letter to Vienna
One year ago today, I woke up in a fifth floor apartment basking in your glow. I drank coffee on the balcony and held you tight. Over the course of my time studying abroad, I'd already fallen for your style, your practicality, the sense of safety you provided. And the music. There was always music with you.
One year ago today, I realized I was in love with you. I was scared to go back to my home in the attic in the mountains in Montana. I was scared to tell the architect that you stole my heart from him.
With you I was sober, and I was never sober. I saw for the first time who I was and how I fit into this world and I wasn't scared at all. All of this ambition finally meant something. Because I met you, and I knew who I was.
You're a million miles away and I don't know if I'll ever see you again. I heard once that the best love stories are always short-lived. But I'll always love you for helping me find my voice, and I really hope I see you again soon.
*cue Billy Joel*
PS- Nobody here makes a breakfast as good as yours.