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So next week marks a pretty big milestone...Two years in Korea. I remember telling my mom that I would only be in Seoul for a year and then I would head straight off to grad school and then begin teaching in a university setting....

Two years later, I am still sitting in the same Starbucks, drinking a venti Christmas Blend (at the time I was drinking an Americano, I'm certain--and they didn't have venti here yet) and I have never been happier.

I have met amazing people. I laughed at what I used to think was vital, who I once was, and squealed for who I am now. I have laughed until I thought I was going to pee. Then I peed.

I have cried. I have cried oceans for the person I used to be, the departures of amazing people, and then, cried some more.

But it feels just as magical as it did the first time.

I can only imagine that this is what true love is. When you look back over the years and realize that you still feel the same as you did when you first came together. That, while time has certainly forged on, and you have changed, you've grown together at a similar and compatible rate. There is hope. There is light. Even in the darkest of nights.

And there is a comfortable sigh there. Because you're home with this person. It's safe but not boring. It's familiar yet new. Comfortable yet exciting.

This is true love.

Maybe one day I will find it with a wonderful man...until then, Seoul, you have my heart. Do with it what you will.

Get it drunk and have it stumble in the streets of Hongdae. Take it to eat Egyptian sandwiches at 4 am in Itaewon. Bring it to Namsan Tower to overlook the city. Invite it to drink coffee and smile as it takes cute pictures with a smart phone. Bring my heart to Gangnam and take sticker photos making kissy faces and victory hand gestures. Go to the 63 building together. Wander around the Co-Ex. Take my heart by it's hand and walk through the streets of Insadong. Take it out to a noraebang, a PC bang, screen golf, and then to a love motel. Admire it while it basks in the blue light of electric sex. Let it sing. Let it dance. Love it as it loves you. Again and again and again and again.

My dear, dear readers. I am home.