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A Wicked Good Romance

They say the most exciting love affair you can have is with a foreigner. And I think they’re right. As a comedian once pointed out, you’re too old and wise for sappy love letters, Boston. But like so many lovestruck letter-writers before me, I’m going to give you all the love you don’t want or need.

If I said you were everything I ever wanted, I’d be lying through my teeth. You aren’t always easy to live with, Boston. I love your maturity, but I can’t help but grit my teeth when the subway is derailed for the two hundredth time. A little update would work wonders for us both, you know. And let’s not get started on your volatile temper. I’ve been pushed across the road by raging winds, had my toes frozen through three pairs of socks, and regularly escaped getting stampeded by crowds of sports fans. You’re tough, and this spoilt youngster didn’t like it.

But you knew how to make up for it, didn’t you? For every snowstorm, you gave me unlimited options for free hot chocolate. For every 4 pm sunset, you gave me a summer filled with endless sunlight. For every day that I cursed the MBTA, you gave me the perfect day to walk. For every snow day I spent at home, you gave me a lazy summer evening, complete with a movie by the river.

It’s easy to fall in love with a foreigner. It’s exciting, right from the beautiful, unfamiliar look to the quirks I never thought I’d get to see. I have stared open-mouthed at your beauty— A line of trees wearing autumn colours and accessorizing the river, miles and miles of soft snow, infectiously happy pink flowers, an endless expanse of rich green. More than once, I have wondered how I got so lucky.

You’ve taught me some crucial lessons. When life threw terrible situations at you, you didn’t just pick up the pieces—you fixed yourself beautifully. You showed more bravery than I will ever be able to, and you inspired me.

Most importantly, my time with you has taught me to live in the moment. Will our relationship last forever? Will I leave you for something more? The future’s not ours to see. I can pine for you, or I can gracefully transition out of this relationship, making way for someone who needs to learn their own lessons.

In the meantime I take in the brick buildings, the smell of the thawing earth after four freezing months, and the ebb and flow of the crowd as baseball seasons come and go.

Learning, cursing, loving, learning some more.

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