Rome at $619 RT

Dearest Starchy Soulmate,

It’s raining in Calgary again, and frankly, my socks (and spirits) have surrendered. The sky is the colour of soggy toast, and I’ve started speaking in passive-aggressive drizzle. But then—you, Pasta. You saucy Roman minx. You twirl into my thoughts like a carb-loaded daydream, whispering sweet nothings in marinara.

While the rain here pours like it's just had its heart broken, I imagine your warm embrace in Trastevere: pillowy gnocchi, cheeky cacio e pepe, lasagna that loves me back. You don’t judge me for ordering seconds. Or thirds.

I crave your al dente optimism, your Parmesan-dusted poetry. You are the edible hug I didn’t know I needed.

So, until Calgary dries out—or I book that flight to Rome—I’ll be here, watching raindrops drip like my tears down the window, thinking only of you.

Forever yours,

All Calgarians rn