Farewell, Love

As I prepare to leave San Francisco a sense of sadness sweeps over my soul. Like your first love that you never quite forget, SF will be the bar that all other cities will be measured against.

I'll always remember the day I looked up at the beautiful sky at Market and Powell and stared at the architecture of the Gap Building. It was in this moment I knew that I had fallen. I could never love another city as I love SF. Its residents come from various parts of the world, cultures and backgrounds; and yet in this place together, they find their perfect harmony. For centuries writers have struggled to explain this city through pen and paper. I believe many have succeeded in attracting an interest, but like myself, have found difficulty in really describing the city that makes your heart melt the second you move in.

But I will continue to write, through my intimidation; this is my tribute.

It was in this place that I lost my heart to my first love and thought my tears would never cease. It was here that I played my first real song on the piano and found my joy in singing in front of others. It was here that I ran my first half marathon. I have never laughed so hard, loved so deeply, or cried so consistently as I have in this city.

I’ve experienced Murakami, Kerouac and Dostoevsky over glasses of wine in Dolores Park. Explored the follies of capitalism and the reality of God’s existence over cigarettes and $10 Cabernet. Walked the streets of Pac Heights dressed in green leaves as Eve during Halloween and danced to Lady Gaga in the Castro with my closest friend over cranberry vodkas. It's here that I escaped to house parties in the Fillmore with faces unknown and recently met. And I’ve listened to Radiohead, live, in Golden Gate Park through the mist and fog.

Thriftown in the Mission and the perfect tacos from La Taqueria kept me going back regularly to the coolest little hood in SF. Haight Street wooed me with vintage thrift stores like Static and array of attractive men in plaid shirts and Ray Bans. My most memorable moment of boy-meets-girl involved books, closed doors and North Beach. Nob Hill, where I lay my head each night, introduced me to Polk Street, the Lumiere Theater and Huntington Park.

Every day I wake and think it’s just a dream I’m having, and I keep relapsing. But it’s real. Those of us who live here are blessed more than we know. Months have gone by quickly, time has sped up and I’ve aged without realizing it. With each passing day I fall more and more in love with this place; but it is time to move on and find my next adventure.

In the end, I’m reminded that it's not my location that defines my happiness. It's who I meet along the way, the experiences I've been a part of and the inevitable hardships that make me stronger. As this chapter ends I’m prepared and anxious to find what lies ahead.

But quietly I whisper into the wind “I’ll come back for you San Francisco, you’ll never leave my heart.”