Portland smells like Heaven.

People here smile. . . with authenticity.

and I like it.

They here don’t offer you bags at checkout counters.

and they seem to have traded their Birkenstocks for Toms.

I like it here.

and everything about it makes me miss you.

The two of you would have gotten along nicely.

Portland and you.

Enough Tom foolery.

I love you.

Time to come home.