If I took a had a dollar for every time someone has asked me “what’s in Chicago?” after announcing my move, I would be able to afford all of the Ubers I want to take despite owning a car because I am terrified to fucking drive here. Truthfully, I have never dreamed of living in Chicago.  And yet, after a week of crashing on my best friends couch and in their beds, me and Kaitlyn and Landon are finally moving into our new apartment where I will officially be promoted from visiting guest to roommate. It is a household, regardless of its location that I have dreamed of either directly or indirectly after every single night I have ever eaten dinner alone. To be honest, I’ve never really considered myself much of a dreamer at all. So many people have these really big dreams and I always feared something was wrong with me because my dream seemed so small in comparison. All I’ve ever wanted above anything else is to simply spend time with my friends. 

Over the last year or so, I’ve realized it’s not that I don’t have “big dreams” it’s that those dreams aren’t even “dreams” to me unless my friends are a part of them. In fact, my primary dream serves as the foundation for every other dream I will ever have because in my dream, not only am I holding onto people who love me, but they are holding me back and they want more for me than I even want for myself. Any “big dream” I have, they magnify it and then nurture it into fruition. Things I never even thought were possible for myself or that I deserved, they make possible and they make real. So the question has never been “what is in Chicago,” but “who is in Chicago?” And the answer is Kaitlyn and Landon, my very best friends, my chosen family, and as of now, my roommates.