...just not in love with you

It's not you Los Angeles, it's us.

We didn't wake up and decide to move.  It built slow; a tree growing.  There were false starts.  When George died, the least we lost was our momentum.  But even without water, that thought of leaving germinated and soil shifted.  When we finally began to think about how we'd make it happen, it changed the way I felt about the city I'd lived in for the past decade.  The things that I had previously tolerated became much harder to ignore: traffic, trash, heat, etc...  Los Angeles hasn't changed, but it's not the place I want to live anymore.

We love you.  We're just not in love with you.

None of this is means it won't be hard/sad to leave.  I'll sing your sing your praises, L.A.  There are so many things we'll miss: family, friends, xlb dumplings.  Neither Bree or I have any regrets about living here.  This will always be the place we met, married and had children.  It's where we made very dear friends we hope to always keep.  It's an amazing place with incredible museums, strange neighborhoods, music, parks, hand-painted marquees.  But it's not the place I want to live anymore

We can still be friends.

We won't leave for a few days, but I'm already planning our return.  Plotting out visits and meals on a map.  Thinking about seeing LA as a tourist for the first time is exciting.  It's a nice place to visit, but it's not the place I want to live anymore.