Dear Eugene, Oregon,

When I was younger, I thought you were a little bit weird, and a little strange. You were tie-dye and Birkenstocks, and Hippies and peace signs. I didn’t think I wanted much to do with you, and I didn’t think you’d ever mean much to me. You weren’t really my style; we didn’t get along too well in the beginning. Eugene, you and I, we just kind of clashed.

But then things changed.

You taught me to love tie-dye, and my grandma bought me my first pair of Birkenstocks in that little store on East Broadway. For so many years, like many others, I called them “Jesus Sandals,” but the minute I slipped into my first pair, I fell in love with them.

My Pacific Northwest pride came from you, Eugene. Every corner you have there are trees and fresh air, and that isn’t something you can find anywhere else. You also gave me water that I could drink straight from the tap that wont threaten my health.

You taught me to love football, even though I “betrayed” you and decided to go to college at the rival school. Oh, and yes, I am a die hard Beav now.

Eugene, you taught me that not matter how dark the time, how strong the storm, or how hard the tears might fall that there would always be people right there behind me pushing me through it.

You gave me strangers who, when you passed them on the street, would always smile and say hello (I later learned that universal friendliness is a pretty unique thing to Eugene.) You taught me that everyone who comes to this city will be greeted with a smile and a helping hand if they need it.

Thank you for giving me Voodoo Doughnuts and Sizzle Pie because, when my friends and I can’t decide where to eat, we head straight for Downtown.

Spencer’s Butte is one of the most beautiful things you gave me. The way the peak of the Butte looks on a foggy morning is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and so is the way it looks on a summer day when the sun is shining and there isn’t a cloud in sight.

You gave me Skinner’s Butte where I have spent countless nights watching the sunset or watching the sunrise. Eugene, you may be a little town, but the way you look at night is breathtaking. I’ve tried countless times to capture your beauty on camera, but the matter of the fact is, is that I never will be able to.

That’s another thing, Eugene. You taught me that some moments are truly too beautiful to be caught on camera, and that sometimes it is important to put away my phone and take in the beauty of what is around me.

You also taught me to take pictures of the things I love. I have thousands of pictures of candid moments of people in my life, videos of things that would never make sense to other people, and pictures of the times I have traveled outside of you.

You gave me love and compassion, and taught me how to love and be compassionate. Without you Eugene, I would not have the deep and pure love that I have for complete strangers. You showed me that my purpose in life was to show every single person I meet love, and to laugh when they laugh, and to cry when they cry.

Eugene, you taught me to cry for those who are hurt, dying, or taken too early from this world. You also taught me to celebrate with those who have been successful and those who have won.

You showed me diversity, and that those who were labeled as different weren’t so different in the end. You taught me that being a devout Christian was about loving every single individual as they come, whether it be straight or gay, homeless or a business owner. Eugene, you gave everyone in this city the man who walks around with a cat on his shoulder. In this city there are individuals who wear polished black suits and are lawyers on the weekdays, but wear tie dye shirts and Birkenstocks and are vendors at the Saturday Market on the weekends. So no, different to other people isn’t so different to me, it’s just uniqueness.

And with that, Eugene, you taught me that every single person has a unique story, and you showed me that so many people in this city are happy to share their stories if you have the time to sit down and listen.

Eugene, in a world of so much hate, you gave me a place where most of the time there is happiness. Because amidst all of the sadness in the world, I can always count on you to give me people who radiate happiness.

Eugene, I will never tell you, “Goodbye,” rather I will say, “See you later,” because I was made for you, and you were made for me. No matter how many times I leave you, Eugene, I know that you will always welcome me with open arms when I inevitably decide that I need a trip home. Yes, Eugene, you are tie-dye and Birkenstocks, and Hippies and peace signs, but you are so much more than that. You are sunshine and positivity, rain and beauty, but most importantly, you are home, and nothing could ever change that.

See you later, Eugene.