There is just something inexplicable about our relationship with this place.
I’m not sure if it’s something affected by our transient physical existence here or something so esoteric we can’t even articulate it ourselves. I don’t know—I guess that’s Madison’s secret to keep. But it’s expressed in every return, past and future. It’s in that feeling when you’re in a cab or in your friend’s car or in your own, and your body begins to grin because it knows you’re getting close. Every inch of you appears to come to life and crack a smile. Then that feeling thereafter which intuitively causes you to roll the windows down, slow your speed and embrace its embrace. And you seem to do this even when its fucking freezing, because there’s something warm about the cold here. It’s like your entire awareness and body silently shout in solidarity: “We’re back.”
This, I look forward to for the rest of my life.
—
You have shaped all of us in a way that tuition never covered, and never could. Your cold carved a depth deep within us, and filled it with an infinite warmth that exists only because you commenced it. Your warmth ingrained in us an appreciation for everything that carries a bit of sunshine, and now we hold it wherever we may go.
The appropriate expression of gratitude that we owe you does not exist in this language, but we know you know what we mean.
