Dear Washington; an Ode to Kentucky

Dear Washington,

I hate you for all your paper pushing money-loving systems of fundraising.

I love you for giving me entry to the world.

I hate you for making me feel alone and isolated. Dating with no real power—no network of accountability for checking in on abuse.

I hate you for the lack of return on investment. The thousands of dollars you sucked from my account to exist in a place where it was ambitious to be, live, and engage.

I hate you for giving me the illusion of fun—empty with fleeting relationships.

I love you for giving me Georgetown and the electric minds that convene there. Friendships that have and will forever change my perspective.

I love and hate you for showing me the world for what it is…And that the peace and joy and bounty of Kentucky is worth protecting—even more fiercely than I ever could have protected before meeting, You.

Dear Washington.

You were never meant to be the ultimate relationship.

I sat next to a man on a flight to Lexington once. He recalled the time he left Kentucky for Kansas in his youth.

“In Kansas, there are hardly any trees. For a time that’s all I wrote about. Trees. I came back home to Kentucky and wrote ferociously about them.”

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