Hot damn, I have loved this city.
Five and a half years ago, I sat with Paul on my parents driveway at 11:30 at night. We liked each other and we were trying to figure out if we could make a relationship work. He had recently joined the military and was headed to Navy officer training in a few weeks and then would be starting med school in Maryland. I was about to start an internship that I thought I was passionate about (spoiler alert - I couldn't have been less passionate) and then go back to USC for my senior year.
We talked about our upcoming date the next night. It would be our first real date. We talked about the next year and how we'd get through it long-distance. And then we talked about what would come after med school and what his commitment would be like for the twenty years after. At one point, he brought up trying for an internship program at Balboa in San Diego.
San Diego? That sounded like a place I'd like to live.
We had been friends for so long. We had danced around the "do I like him?" "do I like her?" idea for so long. Our families had known each other for so long. Safe to say, all the cards were on the table. We were either going to commit and really try for forever or we were going to part as friendly as possible.
(Another spoiler alert - we went for it.)
I can't believe that the "San Diego" portion of our adventure - the dream portion, it felt like - has come to a close. Five and a half years ago this was the goal. It seemed like we'd never get here, but we hoped it was where we were headed.
And now, today, we're through it.
We are really and truly on to the next thing. While we hope to someday come back to San Diego (like for residency and then possibly to settle forever once Paul is out of the military), I no longer dwell on the when? and the where? and the how long?
Today, it's clear why : I found my forever one warm night in June. No matter where we live, I'm home.