Fair Tacoma...

It is strange to have a torn heart. I used to call another place home. And now I call this place home. And perhaps I am beginning to love them both just the same. But England occupies much of my dreams...either that I find myself walking its streets or enjoying its people or even speaking its tongue.

Yet I walk the streets of this city at night and realize that, like an old friend, I am falling in love with it...subtly and gently. So subtle and gentle, in fact, that I hardly even notice it at all...until those moments when the twinkling street lights cause me to pause...and draw in that cold city air...and feel a certain sort of wrenching in my gut that tells me...I've let the city in.

We are only courting...but...I am falling in love.