i’ve fallen in love

with another city. I never thought I would like Los Angeles. Never. I thought I was an East Coast girl through and through. Turns out, I could go either way.

Los Angeles isn’t anything I thought it would be. It wasn’t as flashy as I had imagined. It didn’t seemed as pretentious as it looks on TV and there was no preparing me for the weather. LA was amazing and good to me.

I tend to fall in love with most cities that I visit. Maybe it’s because travel is a carefree existence or maybe it’s because each city beckons to a different part of me. Why did I fall in love with LA? Well, it isn’t the rat race it seems to be or maybe I never came in contact with part of it. And the sun shines everyday. There are never clouds in the sky or rainy, mucky days (there are also not stars). I knew this about LA, but I didn’t believe it. My clouded East Coast brain couldn’t fathom endless days of pure sunshine. How could you be sad in a place like this because whatever happens, at least it’s a beautiful day.

My love for LA is fleeting, though. I know when I am home I’ll settle back into the humidity and heat and then the cool air of fall and the snow of winter. I would miss the seasons if I lived here. Endless days of sitting by the pool would begin to disorient me. Life here would be like an endless vacation. It would be like play, like pretend, just beyond the touch of reality. And my love for LA is not true because it is shared with my love for London, New York, San Francisco, Seattle, and Morehead City. LA is just another city to add to the list of places I could live if I ever decided to pack up and leave the state and family I know so well. I never do make plans to move to the cities I love so much because I think if I lived there the magic would begin to disappear after a time and I don’t want that to happen. I’d rather hold these cities in my heart as perfect gems nestled on hillsides or islands or by the sea, covered in fog or basking in sunlight.