Dear Los Angeles,
I’ve fallen in love with you in ways that are completely unreasonable, intangible, and highly romantic. And yet I find I have grown to resent you in ways that I am at times embarrassed to admit to just anyone. I feel you snide at the ocean, perhaps envious of it’s effortless grace and glorified movement, eternal energy to remain in motion. You have become my deepest secret, a love affair and heartbreak. But I will admit to this, you brought forth a flux in my creativity that was beyond needed, it was vital to survive and I will never forget that. I apologize if I do not give you proper credit for how this summer has turned me inside out, how I have learned to endure more pain from an exposed roll of film than any man I’ve ever known. For what it’s worth you have shown me that my passion will never run dry and that it is never where I go or who I am with, but who I decide to be. Thank you.
Thank you for introducing me to the worlds best tacos and what a six dollar coffee tastes like.
Thank you for showing me a side of 4am I haven't seen since high school.
Thank you for showing me seven different sides of handsome men.
Thank you for the best summer of my life.
With thanks and love, or something like it,