I didn't fall in love with DC the first time I visited, or the second, or the third. Somewhere between the fourth and the fifth visit, I was driving back to my aunt and uncle's house near Stadium-Armory and I passed Lincoln Park and the way the sun was shining through the trees made me call my mom crying because I was afraid to move so far away from home but I already knew I was going to land up here someday. I love the way the city looks in the morning. I love the way the light looks here. I love watching people take their kids to school and hustle to work and go for runs. I love the way this city runs. I wasn't a runner until I moved here. I love the way it kills me, the hills and the weather--sometimes the heat but mostly the cold. I love the way the city rewards you for your efforts: runs along the rivers, the National Mall, through Rock Creek Park, around Roosevelt Island. I love the way this city makes. DC is full of makers, rich in the sheer creativity it takes to thrive here. I love the way this city protests: with heart, with grit, with dancing, without ceasing. I love the way this city fights, the way it grieves, the way it remembers. I love the way this city love GoGo music and Mumbo sauce. I love the way that, if you love this city, if you care for it and fight for it, it loves you right back. I love the way that this city has helped me find the best parts of myself. I love the way this city loves me.
Madelyn- Good Letters DC