I went into the Vatican. The love here was so rich, it could have been touched.
I accidentally cried at the main alter. The love caressed me while my tears fell.
I couldn't stop crying for about a half hour. Love did not let go.
I don't know why I was crying, but the church was just unbelievably gorgeous. The love for Rome was gorgeous too.
I climbed 551 windy, worn down steps through claustrophobic, anxiety attack-provoking slanted hallways. I sacrificed a lot of sweat and tears for the love of Rome.
I saw Rome from on top of St. Peter's Basilica. The love could be felt from all the way up there.
I waited in line for 2 hours in the rain to walk through brilliant museums of ancient Egyptian relics, old maps, famous marble statues, and beautifully painted hallways. I loved Rome so much then, despite being disappointed in the weather.
I illegally took pictures of the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel through the holes of my scarf. The love laughed at me then.
I went into the Colosseum just before the sun was setting and as clouds were clearing from the blue sky. I didn't think I could love Rome any more than I did at that time.
I took the metro and literally ran through the Piazza de Espana and up the stairs to get the best view of the entire city. Then I saw this and the love only grew.
I stood patiently as the bright orange sun sank below Rome and reflected off the red roofs. The love swelled so much at that moment. It could have overflowed.
I found a favorite sandwich. I loved that sandwich as much as I loved Rome.
I ate about 100 of those sandwiches. Rome's love was so real I tasted it.
I ate one of them at 1 am on the steps of a fountain in front of the Pantheon. I loved that too.
I visited the place a friend recommended to me. He said it was where Julius Caesar had died. After a bit of research later, I found out this rumor was true. Even in the light of death, my love was visible.
I watched the changing of the guard ceremony at the Roman tomb of the unknown soldier. It was a sad kind of love then when I understood the significance of that tomb.
I ate the best gelato in Rome. (Literally it was voted this by other visitors online). The man who scooped it talked forever and gave me samples of his favorite flavor combinations. I loved the gelato. I loved Rome.
I took a picture with this gelato man. I loved that man too.
I asked someone sitting at Trevi Fountain to take a picture of me throwing a coin in the water. My heart was so happy in love.
I forgot to make a wish. Rome understood that I was so in love that I forgot to wish.
I thought for about thirty minutes to come up with my real wish. I won't tell you what my wish was directly, but I will say that I could not have loved Rome any more than I did then.
I threw that wish coin in the water with purpose that time. Rome loved me too then.
I dodged cars in order to get the perfect pictures in front of St. Peter's Square. It is a risky kind of love that I have for Rome.
I almost got hit a few times. This things I would do for the love of Rome.
I fell in love with Rome a thousand times over. Over and over and over.
I slept on a train to Florence instead of getting a hostel that night.
I made a promise to Rome just before I drifted off to sleep that I would see her again some day.
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