a love letter to charleston

There’s something about Charleston that makes it stand apart from other cities, and there’s a reason why people are flocking here–no, moving here–in droves.

It could be the charm, or the history, or the food–or maybe it’s the fact that the city is surrounded by water and the most perfect palm trees line the imperfectly perfect cobblestone streets–but there’s other reasons why I fall more and more in love with this city each and every day.

I love the fact that I take the same walk–day after day–yet always manage to discover something new and beautiful. Whether it’s the scent of jasmine in May, a brass pineapple door knocker that stands out against a coral hue, or a rod iron gate that leads to the most lush and vibrant garden, it’s those little things that bring me joy. Those little things that keep me in awe over the fact that I have been so blessed to have lived in this very special place for two whole years.

To most, Charleston is this fantasy land; a storybook city that one can only dream about, yet never have the opportunity to live. To me, it’s a storybook city–and a life that I dreamt about–that I had the privilege of calling home for twenty-six, much too short months.

Before moving to Charleston, my dream was that I’d live in a carriage house downtown; I’d bike to work everyday; Mike and I would sit on our front porch in our rockers and watch the sun set (Riley at our feet); then we’d walk to dinner hand in hand.

I may not have had the exact life that I’d envisioned upon moving here, but my reality was quite special, even still. I’d bring my dog to work, we’d take nightly sunset strolls overlooking the harbor, I paid very little for gas and groceries, I’d go to the beach from April through October and never had to shovel an inch of snow, I lived in a real one bedroom apartment–by myself–and I had a dream job that people in New York would kill for.

All things happen for a reason and there’s a reason why my stint in Charleston has been cut short. There’s also a reason why I’m going back to New York; I’m following my heart… Although there will always be a piece of it in this storybook city.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: