Next week I’ll be reacquainted with a former flame.
A love that dragged me through the valley of extreme highs and absolute lows.
My relationship with LA is one I’ve romanticized in my writing, my dreams and very somber moments drinking alone. She turned me from a child into an girl; a girl with worn edges and heavy heart.
At some point last year, I realized that girl metamorphosed into an adult. All the hopes and dreams the girl cried for in her loneliness came true.
She loves someone now, and she knows her path career-wise.
I think about the girl often and in random moments I miss her.
I mourn her passing when watching an episode of Girls or hearing a song by M83. My new adult way of thinking tells me I’d never want to be her again, but there is a part of her that still calls to me.
The girl used to lie on Venice Beach at night, staring at the stars wondering when it will all happen for her.
She never thought that day would come, but it’s came, and I’m going to run back to that beach next week full-circle.
I will be seeing old friends and former employers for the first time in years. I’ll also be on set of Californication. Hopefully I won’t say something incredibly stupid to David Duchovny.
LA, we meet again…