A LOVE LETTER TO LONDON

Dear London, 

Guess who’s crashing on your couch for six months? Yep, it’s me, the 24-year-old with too many suitcases and a vague plan to postpone adulting for a while. Consider this my love letter to you, London, a city full of clouds and dreams, my temporary escape from reality. 

It’s been five months since I touched down at Heathrow Airport ready to renew my Pret subscription and embrace the city I fell in love with so long ago again. London, you’re like the cool older friend who introduces me to endless art exhibits, hidden thrift shops in Shoreditch, and food platters I didn’t know existed. All I can say is, you have me hooked. 

Your skyline is a chaotic masterpiece of steel, glass, and history that somehow fits perfectly. Everyone here is chasing a dream in this city of suits and ties. Gazing at the horizon above the Thames River is a daily reminder that the world is full of possibilities, relieving some of my restlessness as an almost 25-year-old without a steady nine to five. 

But not everything’s about work, right? A bit like dating, your tube system is occasionally confusing and always running fashionably late, but ultimately, it gets me where I need to be. I knew I would be fine after navigating the twists and turns of the Central Line without referencing the colorful tube map plastered along the underground walls. 

Let’s talk about the greenspaces you have to offer. I’d trade spreadsheets and thrifted office slacks for afternoons in Hyde Park and Greenwich 

any day. Sunsets at Primrose Hill and strolls along the Queen’s Walk have become my new favorite weekend plans, putting job searching on hold for just a bit longer. 

Last, but not least, it’s time to address the biggest controversy of them all, your weather. You keep throwing drizzle after drizzle at me and I keep showing up for a front-row seat. Your unpredictable weather is the ultimate test, but I could get used to the symphony of umbrellas twirling around the regency-style corners forever. 

London, you’re not just a city, you’re a place where deadlines can wait and job applications take the backseat. So as I enter the ‘Big Girl World’ of business cards and forced office banter, know I’ll be reminiscing about our temporary love affair. Thanks for being the unplanned chapter of my twenties.  

Yours in Laughter and Oyster Card Swipes, 

Kiley