I came to California a few days before my twenty-third birthday. Packing my suitcases, donating most of my clothes, and getting dropped off at the airport to take the longest flight of my adult life in order to move to a city I'd never seen felt like the biggest risk I'd taken. It probably was- not because it was particularly risky but because I wasn't in the habit of taking chances. And moving cross-country without visiting your new home first seemed pretty chancy to me.
I'm leaving today, a few years older and with even less of an idea of what the future holds. I couldn't have foreseen a lot of what happened here but if I had, I still would have gotten on that plane. I am a much better person for it. The way my life has unfolded is wildly different from anything I planned, but I do love it, even the difficult bits. All I can do is keep living in a way that feels right to me. Luckily, I have a phenomenal partner to support me and keep me entertained on all of life's long walks.
I have to say goodbye to San Diego, to California, and to my beloved Pacific Ocean but I don't want to say goodbye to all of the wonderful people I met here. I feel like we were just starting to get to know each other. So this is just goodbye for now, because I know our paths will cross again (they'd better!).
Z's first introduction to the Pacific.
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