I’ve kissed under the glow of the Eiffel Tower.
I’ve danced the night away at Versailles.
I’ve held hands up and down the winding streets of Prague.
I’ve drank champagne on the beach in Nice.
I’ve explored the canals of Amsterdam.
I’ve yatched the coast of Croatia.
I’ve inhaled pasta in Rome, hiked the Cinque Terra, glided down Venice’s canals, and marveled at Florence’s beauty.
I’ve had tea in London, traveled back in time in York, and ran across the Scottish Highlands.
I’ve eaten dim sum in New York, visited Lady Liberty, and stood on the SNL stage.
I’ve seen the monuments – Jefferson, Lincoln, and Washington.
I’ve sung karoke in Chicago.
I’ve explored the beauty of Michigan.
I’ve surfed in Malibu and partied in LA.
I’ve lived, cried, and loved in San Francisco.
And now I’m staring at a map, thinking where next? What adventure awaits? When can I go? Will anything ever be enough? What can calm my nomadic heart?