Dear L.A.
My parents always warned me about you. How you’re big and dirty, and of course, about your problem with the T word. But yet, here we are. Like most people at the beginning of a relationship, I’m hesitant. I come from a town 1,800 times smaller than you – in fact, my entire state barely has more people than you do within your limits. I might (will) get claustrophobic sometimes and I may have to leave every now and then. Please don’t take it personally.
From the short time we’ve spent together, I can say this – I’m willing to give it a try. You may not be as green and covered with trees as home, but the violet blossoms of your jacarandas are incredibly beautiful. Nearby, you provide mountains to explore and beaches for breathing in that salty ocean air. I appreciate the effort you made this year to make me feel at home, even though all that rain nearly melted the locals. Your artwork is amazing and I haven't even mentioned your cooking yet! As I'm writing this, I dream of your street tacos.
It’s almost time to dive into your culture and add a few stars to your creative galaxy. What I’m most encouraged by is the future. There will be hard times, but I'm certain the good will outweigh the bad. I look forward to growing as a person in your embrace. You have my word that I will at least peek through every open door, and knock really loud on those that are closed.
For the one I love, I know I can learn to love you.