The thought of almost missing out on this amazing experience is something I often reflect upon. So much of my true nature showed in that instant. Was I really going to stay at the hotel room that night and not venture off into this new unfamiliar city? I was.
The money spent, long hours sitting on a plane, the oh-so-many miles away from home just to be here living this moment didn't matter because what really wanted during this entire trip was someone to hold hands and share all these amazing feelings with. Regardless, the disappointment on my companion's face was so evident I instantly knew I was making a more than obvious horrible decision. At this point it didn't matter if it was past ten, that our bags weren't made or that our flight back home was at eight in the morning the next day. All that mattered was that we were in fucking Chicago for the first time ever, and we were going exploring in the middle of the night before going back to our little island!
Many wonderful things happened;
Spent time with my childhood friend and pseudo tour guide of the night, Johnny.
Authorities got us kicked out of the Millennium Park because it was past eleven (The park was closed!), but we managed to take a quick shot at The Bean before running away quickly. City lights, so many. My endless adoration for these, overwhelming. I don't think these photos capture how amazing everything truly was. Also, CHINATOWN! Where we had our last meal of the trip. Not only was everything inexpensive but we got served loads of food. Also had the best Mango Bubble Tea my tasted buds had ever experienced.
Such a perfect ending.
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