October 7, 2010
So, I’ve been in Chicago for over a month now. I’m still coming to grips with that, in fact. It’s not that it feels like it’s been longer or shorter than that. But labeling that span of time as a month just doesn’t sound right at all.
I think this is largely because there was so much leading up to me actually driving to Chicago. There were months of planning, dreaming, praying, and preparing that were just as significant as the move itself. A month doesn’t sound right, because I’ve been “here” in this new phase of life for much longer. But that 15 hour drive? Saying goodbye to my parents, sister, friends, and home? No, no, that was just a couple of weeks ago.
If you’ve followed my trip at all, you’ve probably realized that I love Chicago. Adore it. The city is absolutely fantastic, and I would not trade the past five weeks here for anything. But Chicago itself was only part of the reason I came here. Of all the attributes of Chicago that drew me here, the most significant one was that it wasn’t Dallas. My loving family, phenomenal friends, and charming life as I knew it were nowhere near Illinois.